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Metro: Beyond


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  1. "With any fortune," she repeated back at him, though she sounded far more muted. Anxious. Her own clothes were not especially practical for travel - a skirt, a blouse, a sweater, low and sensible heels, but heels all the same. The young woman's wardrobe was *all* that way, though. She wasn't a soldier. She was, if anything, a soft little housecat who'd never once been expected to go anywhere in a rush. She was too young and her father was too powerful for that to have been part of her life. It wasn't something she was thinking about, even now as they took their now full packs and mad
  2. Rusalka was in shock. She'd never been shot at before. She'd never known it was something that could happen, just like that. Her hands were trembling slightly as she packed things away. What did you bring when you were fleeing your home? What could they come back for, later on? She looked around the room. Surely this was merely temporary. They'd come home sooner or later. Her biggest concern was not leaving anything permanently - her brain hadn't even gone there yet - but what might some ruffian try to loot while they were temporarily gone? She settled for locking some of the more va
  3. His quick response was a saving grace, but there was no second shot. They held on the ground in petrified silence for what felt to Rusalka like hours, but the mob never came. Everything was deadly, terrifyingly silent. She didn't make any move to say anything, she didn't try to move, she didn't try to fight him off. She held there, stock still in her husband's grip. When he finally let her go, she slithered away from him and sat up, still well under the bottom of the window. All she did was nod and move to get a couple of bags. And to think, they'd just finished unpacking.
  4. Rusalka turned just her head. "And they'll what?" She asked with ice in her voice. "Throw a rock at me?" No sooner had she spoken than the glass of the window was shattered. Not by a rock, but by a bullet. It whizzed only inches away from her torso and buried itself into the wall just over Anatoly's head. Rusalka screamed and jumped back. @Dragon
  5. Rusalka drew back, mouth pressing shut. Was this their first fight? She heard all couples did that, but much like hard discussions, her parents had never done anything of the sort in front of her. It was certainly the first time either of them had been anyhing other than coolly polite. She gave him a wary look, turned, and walked back to the window, drawing back the curtains to peer outside again, making it clear that the reality of how dangerous their lives were close to becoming had not yet sunk in for her. @Dragon
  6. She frowned at him. If not that kind, what other kind of information was there? Or at least, what else would Hanza want? "My father always said they were just as bad as the Reich. All the same ideals, deep down, only less organized about it." But that made sense. Her father always had been a hard line party member, and wish as little wiggle room as he gave himself, it wasn't a surprise that his daughter was just as stiff about it. "And you just want to, what? Walk over and knock on the door?" @Dragon
  7. "Hanza?" Rusalka repeated, looking stricken. "But- they aren't-" There was a lot of flowery words she could say about the intense capitalism that ran directly counter to everything the Red Line stood for, but she was too shocked to try. She placed a hand on the kitchen table. She was not quite so much of a delicate flower as to faint at the news, but the prospect of leaving had never once occurred to her, and she didn't know what to do with the caviler attitude Anatoly had for it. "Information you could provide. You're not- you're not seriously suggesting you'd betray the People to Hanza?
  8. This was a lot of uncertainty. Rusalka wasn't a big fan of uncertainty. It... misbalanced her, left her feeling anxious. Well, more anxious, in this case. She was a little shocked that he'd actually said the word dead. That. That was supposed to be. Unspoken. Wasn't it? She looked visibly nervous, and the expression ramped all the way up to shock when Anatoly went on about what might be next on their list. "Wait, what?" she blinked owlishly. "On our backs? Where would we be going?" She was laughably unprepared for a situation of this caliber. @Dragon
  9. She nodded and went to the small galley style kitchen to pour from the large metal coffee pot (one of their wedding gifts from some official or another) into a glass. It was still hot and fairly fresh, and she brought the pot along with the poured glass to the table for her husband. She still wasn't used to this, but at least it felt like what she was supposed to be doing? The mention of her father, and his lack of communication of late, made her bite down even harder on her cheek. "...How soon is soon?" she asked. And then, in spite of herself, in spite of how much the answer scared
  10. Vanja couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. Next time Kae beans one in the head with a rock, it'll be teeth all around, ok?" She scraped the rest of the food off the plate and directly into her mouth as the kids broke out into excited murmurs. Even some of the older teenagers shared glances, wondering how they might pull off the promised gift giving. Vanja was, of course, on the exact same page as Kaella about how they'd manage it. "Alright, clean up dishes, then it's getting late. I wanna sleep and if I'm tired, then you must be tired, too." @Dragon
  11. Rusalka wasn't sure what a normal level of communication between a couple was supposed to be. Her parents, if they got to talking about in depth matters, certainly never did so in front of her. Maybe it simply wasn't a thing people did? She bit down on the inside of her cheek, worrying at the skin, a nervous habit. "Are you hungry?" she asked. She realized she had no idea what his schedule was, if he ate at work... any of it. "There's coffee." Mushroom coffee, but it perked you up just the same. She'd never had the namesake. Their apartment was a nice one for the Red Line, but like a
  12. The description of their scent wasn't a lie. At best they smelled like rotten meat. At worst, it was indescribable, an instant gagging sensation of horror. Vanja hadn't spent much time around them, thankfully, but her two brushes with the monsters had left quite the impression. Still, one of the clueless kids looked up in wonder. "I want a tooth!" she said. Vanja ruffled her hair with a grubby hand. "Maybe next time, lil bit." @Dragon
  13. Rusalka was so lost in her own thoughts that she jumped when the door opened. Her head whipped around, a net of very long blonde hair following the movement like a veil. Obviously, it was only her husband. After all, who else would it be? But the jumpy anxiety remained. She wasn't sure who else she would have been expecting. A rioter from one of the other stations, or maybe from this one, charging in to attack her? Maybe a member of her own family, alive after all and seeking shelter? Her mother had insisted that it was fine and normal and even healthy for Rusalka to move from her ho
  14. Vanja cracked, only for a second, barely stifling the snort of laughter that came with remembering the various things that Kae had actually thrown rocks at, the many times this fake gambit had been employed in real life... often to great effect. She took another bite of her dinner and shrugged. "What can I say," she said through a full mouth, "They just smell so bad I can't stand to be near 'em." @Dragon
  15. The wedding hadn't been much to write home about. The offer had been there, of course: She could have an extravagant dress, if she asked for it. As large a bridal party as she requested. Glowing, handmade fake flowers, better than the real thing had been, if she wanted. But Rusalka turned it all down. It was silly to waste Party resources on... well... a party. And she'd never felt at home in complex dresses. And having a big gaggle of bridesmaids she didn't even know sounded an awful lot like socializing, which she'd never been very good at (which was why she had no close friends to serv
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