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I have been curious lately, about a few things. I pulled out my PDA - [And here, he pulls it out and wags it a little.] - to check a few things. The map is still useless, it is stuck on Pripyat back home and cannot find me. The journal works though, and so does the Geiger Counter.

And I know this because a lot of you Cybertronians are radioactive. Especially the two that are very pointy, the ah. Red and silver ones? I think I could maybe follow your trails if I tried.

[Strelok shrugs then, leaning back and smiling slightly.] I thought it was interesting, anyway. If any humans starts getting nauseous or dizzy you should see about getting some anti-rads, maybe. I am not sure how it would affect the non-humans, I am afraid.
gtfostalker: A man stands in the sunlight, with an unfocused blade of grass in the foreground (Into the Light)
[Well, it would seem that someone is finally sounding in. Took him long enough, especially considering that he seems to be using his sleeping back as a blanket, with a cup of something steaming in his hands. He sniffles.]

How did this happen, I never get sick. Bah...

Everyone should avoid my shack, maybe, I am contagious. It is probably that... whatever that is going around. Though if you happen to have soup I would not mind so much if you stopped by.
gtfostalker: A thin-faced man in a hood looking to the left, seeming sullen (Hollowed Out)
[If anyone has been wondering where Strelok has been, they will be getting the answer to that question presently. Strelok is on top of a ladder, tying together what looks to be a couple pieces of corrugated steel with some kind of flexible metal.

That finished, Strelok slides down the ladder, adjusting the camera back, to show the World's Lamest Shack. The walls and roof are all the corrugated steel, tied with the same wire. Sitting outside is that freakish energon-eating plant he picked up ages ago... which has a bunch of Christmas lights on it and doesn't seem too happy about. His pseudodog Fang is in a much better mood, though, tail thumping on the ground as it wags.

Strelok grins a little. Proud of yourself much, dude?]

Not too bad, for a hand-made home, yes? Nexus Prime, you know I like you, but I cannot loiter in your temple anymore.

And I have heard it is also near Christmas? Well, then we celebrate like stalkers! Isaac, I will find beer; we will have a party in the medbay. Who knows, maybe I will even be able to find some food that is better than normal. If anyone else wants to come, you are welcome. Though you Cybertronians will have to bring your own... energon, is it?
gtfostalker: A thin-faced man with short hair stands smiling in the light (Default)
[It's been a while since Strelok was around, offering advice from living like a hobo in Russia or shooting Starscream in the eye to keep himself alive. And the reason it's been a while is because he went on an adventure without telling anyone! Whoops.

But he's back now, and making a transmission. Video, for once. Once of his hands is bandaged, and... is that a plant that's straining to try to snap a small energon goodie out of his fingers? He chuckles lightly.]

Ahh, I bet you missed these more than me, yes?

[He tosses the goodie to the plant, which catches it in its rather huge venus flytrap mouth. He looks to the camera after that.]

Well, I am back from the Badlands now. It was, perhaps, not so bad as it could have been, at least for me. I will be restocking my supplies later though, and if any of the humans need medical attention I can help.

Locked to Drift, Wing, and the FirstForged )
gtfostalker: A thin-faced man clutches a PDA in his right hand, face contorted in pain (Mine)
[Enjoy that full minute of static, Haven. It's not getting any better. At least someone eventually starts talking... just that it's all in Russian and half-staticked out for another minute before the translator either kicks in or the man on the other end realizes that English might be easier for most people to understand.]

... -llo?

... -ve gotten los-

... -omeone come get me?

[The static increases briefly - which mostly covers a rather colorful curse that nobody needs to hear.]

I will rep-...... -ess.

... -ank you.

[The transmission cuts out shortly after that, returning the Link to its regularly scheduled silence.]
gtfostalker: A thin-faced man in a hood reaches for something off-screen (Grasping)
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