Mykola Dalco

Polis

Posts
11
Last visited
June 20
Player
Dragon

Custom Fields

Playby
Torrance Coombs
Age
35
Occupation/Rank
Stalker

Topics I Participated In

Refuel, Recharge, Relax [Open]

Started by Nikita Fischer · June 10

The worst thing about being a Stalker was the way she never quite got used to her feet aching.
Sure, she could ignore the way she never quite felt like she could catch her breath when she was topside - there were obviously long moments where she didn't feel fatigued or pressured or anxious or filled with adrenaline, but after the fact, regardless of whether she had actually been out of breath, she felt like she just couldn't catch her breath or get a break. She could ignore the long travel times; she was now used to the distances some would call unbearable, though it was much easier now compared to when she first started working as a stalker. However, the biggest trouble for her (all things considered) was the way that, by the time she reached her destination, her feet would start aching, her energy would flag, and she would just want to be home. It was a strange sensation, as that she didn't really know what that felt like anymore. Just a fuzzy recollection of warmth and welcome from when she was a child.
Now, though, as she came back into Polis territory (not her home station of Alexandrovsky Sad of course, she might get recognized there despite being older now, with some new scars; she'd headed for Arbatskaya instead), she just wanted to find a place to sleep and feel safe again. Not that it was guaranteed even here. As a Shudra, should anyone have to check her caste, while not necessarily treated poorly, especially with her medical/stalker experience which often got her a good amount of money if she brought books back for the Brahmin, she wasn't exactly the type that would class as a VIP.
Regardless, she pushed herself despite those aching feet to the market to drop off some books for the Brahmin and to sell her more minor goods (outside of whatever portion she was keeping for herself), and buy some more of the essentials - like gas mask filters, ammunition, food, you name it.
Maybe she should go hunting sometime, see if she could bring back a few live rabbits. She was sure people would go ballistic over the quick to breed and mature food source after they'd bred them enough to get a stable population for regulated slaughtering... the fur would be nice too... and how long had it been since anyone had had anything besides mushrooms, a few limp vegetables that had adapted poorly to low sunlight conditions, and chicken or pork?
She sighed as she sat down, her gear between her legs in the middle of the market on a convenient bench. She still looked every bit a stalker and a medic - with her medic symbol plastered on her large bag between her knees, and patched on her sleeves - and her gas mask hanging around her neck atop her shemagh, with the parts of her face the mask covered cleaner than the rest of her exposed skin. Her tired expression was part and parcel, even as she took off her boots one at a time to rub her feet and roll her ankles to try and reduce the lactic acid built up in her muscles over the couple of days she'd been travelling.