- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Quite often
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Zombie, slice-of-life survival, Post Apocalyptic, Cyberpunk, Sci-fi, High Fantasy, Modern, medieval
((OOC & Sign up: http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/Идеальная-тишина-perfect-silence.30713/))
I'll never forget that day, the day the birdsong ceased. The day the animals hushed, and the wind quieted. The day the air was so thick with terror that the very snow beneath our boots didn't dare to crunch, lest it draw out whatever had done this. That day on the Russian Frontier, miles away from civilization.
Whatever lived in those caves that the scientists unearthed, it was angry. It was hungry. And it thought we tasted good. Worst of all we couldn't hear a thing. Whatever it did to us, we went deaf that day.
After it was all over, I decided to make a name for that day, and the days of silence that followed as we were stuck out there. It only seemed fitting to name the phenomenon in the language of the land. I called it 'Идеальная тишина'.
The Perfect Silence.
It went a little something like this:
A transport truck pulls up to a scientific basecamp on the edge of the dig site. A man steps out, the Captain of Security Patrol Seven. He pulls the cigarette from his lips and surveys the scene. "Hey, guys, come check this out. The whole bunch of Nerds is missing." he calls to the others in the truck. they start to get out, one from the passenger side, and a few more from the back.
I'll never forget that day, the day the birdsong ceased. The day the animals hushed, and the wind quieted. The day the air was so thick with terror that the very snow beneath our boots didn't dare to crunch, lest it draw out whatever had done this. That day on the Russian Frontier, miles away from civilization.
Whatever lived in those caves that the scientists unearthed, it was angry. It was hungry. And it thought we tasted good. Worst of all we couldn't hear a thing. Whatever it did to us, we went deaf that day.
After it was all over, I decided to make a name for that day, and the days of silence that followed as we were stuck out there. It only seemed fitting to name the phenomenon in the language of the land. I called it 'Идеальная тишина'.
The Perfect Silence.
It went a little something like this:
A transport truck pulls up to a scientific basecamp on the edge of the dig site. A man steps out, the Captain of Security Patrol Seven. He pulls the cigarette from his lips and surveys the scene. "Hey, guys, come check this out. The whole bunch of Nerds is missing." he calls to the others in the truck. they start to get out, one from the passenger side, and a few more from the back.