The staccato chunking of a pair of M2 Machine Guns echoed throughout the far reaches of a forest within Vale's natural borders. The two military vehicles of the Misfits Corps rolled forward past the northern exit of a town, driving back a horde of Grimm with high-caliber ammunition. The spent casings and links clinked and dropped onto the roofs of the vehicles, all while the allied infantry advanced from the rear. The Romanians and French Foreign Legionnaires were precise with their shots. Victor, Paul and Lita surveyed the forces...

The Grimm were a terrifyingly numerous foe. Ugly beasts, with manes black as night and skull armor plates onto which several scarlet symbols had been etched. Their numerous hordes and their varied types made them threatening enemies, though, thankfully, the Misfits had the firepower to thin out any massive horde. The chugging of the guns continued for a while longer, all while Sammy was still talking prices with the Mayor of the small village. This place was one known for hot springs, hot food and great tourist reception, though its guns had recently run out of ammo and a particularly scared group of tourists did exactly what they were afraid of:Attracted a small horde.

Oh, well, shrugged most of the Misfit unit while casings dripped down onto the dirt road. What better way to blow off some steam than to waste a bunch of animal-like monstrosities that were only ever good in Melee combat. Vic looked to Paul, watching the man pull out a cigarette and slide it between his lips, before stating, "Y'know, I did wanna ask you about your new habits, dude..."

Paul hummed as he lit the cigarette, took a deep puff, then sighed, blowing the smoke out of his nose. He shrugged and said, "You pick up a few bad habits in war..." to which Vic snorted and shook his head. Ain't that goddamn right, he thought as he watched the vehicles and their comrades lay waste to the Horde. One of the Grimm got too close as one of the Frenchies reloaded and the Romanian Sniper took it out with a headshot.

"God bless our ammunition," Lita murmured as she held her rifle cradled in her arms, "They die far too easy to it..." before she looked ahead. The firing slowly died down as the Grimm were driven off or destroyed, with Lita noting, "This is fucking soothing, blyad..." As she grinned. The two men let out a short laugh at their smaller comrade's antics, before hearing the thump of boots hitting the floor as Sammy walked up to them.

The trio turned to their leader and snapped crisp salutes, before Sam hummed and stated, "I'm disappointed I missed the party, though the Mayor said what we faced here were small critter-sized Grimm. Anything bigger kind of lost interest the moment we rolled in on our vehicles..." She hummed next, "That, or something distracted our dear freaks of nature... I don't know."

"The hell could distract a whole-ass horde?" Inquired Vic in a murmur.

Sam shrugged, before looking to Lita and ordering, "We're done. Radio in back home and tell them we're returning. I bet Vesna wants to know when her bae is gonna come home again," and flashing a grin. Lita snorted, while Vic blushed and Paul let out a short chuckle. He paused, however, when he saw the Romanians, Diana in the lead, moving ahead of the transports.

The Romanian of the Command Team paused, then nodded to his friends and ran off with his own PKM hanging off his shoulder. Sam, Paul and Lita looked to one-another, stopped as they heard the rumble of tracks, then swore to themselves and ran to the front as well. Running between the two vehicles and into the crowd of soldiers, the trio soon saw them dispersed along both sides of the road, taking cover behind the walls and aiming their weapons. Two MILAN ATGM launchers had been set up on the side of the road and the Romanian RPG Gunner hefted the launcher onto one shoulder, aiming.

A pair of Romanian riflemen stood closer to the noise, aiming their AKs toward it. Both turned back and gave hand signals to the AT weapons to be ready. The group, however, fell into a general pause, disbelievingly staring at what was rolling toward them. Clad in spotted camouflage meant for Desert operations, bearing several extra antennae and pieces of gear on its sides and turret and with several troops sat on top, dressed in 'Afghanka' uniforms with steel pot helmets and AK-74s that looked brand new out of the factory, a BMP-2 bearing Soviet markings rolled forward.

One of the troops aboard the vehicle, someone who was hanging out of a hatch, was working on a radio when she seemed to notice the Romanian troopers. Brown-haired, pale and with brown eyes and quite beautiful, the woman jumped up and waved at the Romanian soldiers. She pointed them out, which seemed to stir awake the soldiers asleep on the transport. Several of them tensed.

Even more so when the VAB, Mastiff and the Frenchies came into view. Vic sighed, then looked to Sam, who nodded. He stepped forward and raised his open palm toward the transport, showing them to stop. The radio operator seemed to call out to the crew below in a bit of a panic, but the BMP stopped nonetheless. Its 30mm cannon was pointed up at the sky next, showing a sign of them being non-threats.

Noticeably, the entire platoon of soldiers on top of the BMP dismounted, a couple stumbling off the vehicle and keeping their rifles close, but on safe for now. Another noticeable fact was that they were all, for the most part, women. The crew also appeared out of the hatches as Vic and Sammy approached, weapons at the ready, but, again, on safe.

"... You seeing this shit?" Vic asked Sam.

"Bright as fucking day, man..." She replied in a whisper, eyeing the worried Russian women ahead of them, "It's like we walked into an expo for Late Soviet-Afghan War equipment of the Union's..." before she noticed that even the BMP's crew was female for the most part, sans for the Driver. The radio operator woman waved with a smile, still a bit awkward.

Vic sighed deeply, then told Sam, "You still speak Russian, or should I take this one?"

"You learned Russian?" She asked, surprised. With a nod, the boy gave an awkward smile, making Sammy realize and chuckle, "Oh, dear Vesna will be happy to hear that..." before eyeing the woman on the vehicle. She motioned to Vic to go ahead and start the chat if he felt like it, taking a step back. While it was usually the CO's job to start chats, well... Sammy wanted to see how fluent their beloved Romanian was in Redspeak.

And so, Vic cleared his throat and began, "Privyet!"

The commander of the vehicle appeared out of the top as well, an older man with greying hair and an AKs-74u in his arms. He waved to Victor, then replied, "Privyet!" and whispered something to the radio operator gal right next to him. He then jumped out of the transport first, shouldering his short AK as he marched up toward Victor. The man then spoke to him in clear-cut Romanian, but with a familiarly Russian accent, "We didn't expect to see Romanians here, almost as much as we didn't expect to see Satan's warhounds nearby. Did we travel too far from Kandahar?"

"We're way beyond Kandahar, KomBat..." Vic replied, a hint pleasantly surprised. He only paused when he realized what the elder man had said. He inquired, "Wait... Kandahar... Afghan?" to which the man gave a confused nod of confirmation. Vic looked back to Sammy, who was somewhat semi-fluent in Romanian, too, because of the crush. She walked up beside Vic.

"PLA? Blyad..." Murmured the Soviet officer, taking his hat off to reveal greying black hair.

"... Kandahar, Afghanistan..." The girl had to take a moment to realize, "Routine patrol?" She then asked in clear-cut Russian. The soldier gave a nod, which made Sam turn to Vic and state, "Vic."

"No, Sam. I don't wanna fucking believe that," Vic replied, turning toward her with a frown, "There's no fucking way in hell they..." all while their rearguard were watching this, dumbfound. Sam turned to the AT Troops and waved them off, before she and Vic turned back toward the Old Man and the Romanian told him, "Roll your troops into the village. We have a lot to talk about..."

"That I'll bet, considering you haven't shot the French..." The man replied with a short snort. He turned to his soldiery and waved them forward, showing them to go at ease. Vic and the others showed their guns were on safe and he set his own Kalash on safe. Once his soldiers got closer, they all did much the same. The group marched toward the village, with Vic chopping his hand forward twice. The two armored vehicles of the NATO group rolled back gently as the treads of the BMP started grinding the dirt. it lurched forward, its engine purring.

NATO's dumfound component of soldiers and Lita all watched the transport vehicle and the Soviet soldiers clad in Afghankas roll into town. They slung their rifles, paratrooper AKs, onto their backs. Diana met Victor and Sam in the middle, asking them, "Did Rosenbaum have any concerts slated for Remnant, Lieutenant...?" with a whisper. Sam let out a short snort as she watched the rest of the BMP's crew disembark from the transport, radio girl included, then shrugged.

"This is fucking nuts," Spoke one of the Frenchies, shifting her assault rifle onto her chest and taking off her helmet. She turned to Sam and said, "These people are older than us. 1980s old, if they're actually from Afghan and not a masquerade group of LARPers from the Neo-Soviet Union..." before looking at the Russian officer as he spoke to his troopers.

"It's not as odd, considering our seeming strange entity brought us here," Sam suggested, "And most of us died during various points post-Collapse or even before. Who's to say our friends over here couldn't have been brought from a routine patrol in Kandahar in the '80s?" and she sighed, then planted a palm on her face, "Fuck's sake, I hate this so much, honestly. It's getting tiresome."

"Yeah, no shit," Vic murmured.

Once the officer, a captain from the looks of his ranks, finished talking to his troops, he turned about and approached the Misfits' leaders with the radio girl. His troops already started chatting, some of them smoking, too. They were varied in ethnicity. Buryats, Siberians, Belarusians, Ukrainians and Russians. Various distinctions could be made, considering Vic and Sam both knew the multitudes of differences of facial structures and the likes.

Well, Vic could only tell them apart because he'd once done a search-through with Vesna on the internet to find out what her ancestry was. Turned into a whole thing that made them forget about finding out her real ancestry, honestly, though nobody could exactly blame the two dumbest buffoons of the Misfits. Vic was taken out of his fugue by the Officer clearing his throat. He spoke, "Right... Let's find a nice place to talk. We still gotta figure out how in God's name you wound up in here..."

"Lead the way. Me and my executive officer will gladly speak to our fellow dead," The old man replied, offering a kind smile. His salt-and-pepper moustache seemed to stretch with his lips as he did so. Vic nodded and he and Sammy led the old man and his XO, the Russian radiowoman, forward. The woman seemed shy, worried as she watched the locals staring at them. Animal traits also seemed to weird them all out.

Well, to be fair...

Home

Whiskey(the woman, not the drink) casually hummed an oldie tune as she sipped her drink of choice. The sheer aura of the ginger/blonde-haired woman somehow irked a couple of people. Well, one sole person for now. The Military Policeman with the M4A1 sighed deeply, watching the woman sit there, feet kicked up on the coffee table and drinking like she owned the place.

Hell, Robert had barely been here for a few days at this point, but he was starting to get fucking peeved at the sheer stupid. He walked up to her and told her, "Get your feet off the table. I just cleaned it," with all the tone and authority he could gather, tired as all hell. He'd been up for a while at this point, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on in this world, not to mention the insomnia he had had during the Collapse coming back in full force.

Whiskey looked up at him and noticed he was serious. She hummed, shrugged and took them off, replying, "Alright. Chill," before turning to Anja and Saila and pointing at the man while he walked away. She made a couple of faces mocking the MP toward the two women, both of whom giggled, before she turned back to watching TV just as Vesna walked out of her and Victor's room, clad in only a tank top and shorts. Whiskey hummed, grinned, then whistled teasingly, "Lookin' good!"

With a blush, the blonde replied, "S-Spasibo..."

"Heh," Ayesha chuckled as she helped Saila prep their next meal, "Vic did mention Whiskey's a bit of a tease..." before she set the pot onto the island countertop and stretched a bit, "Oof... Gotta do more yoga or something. Joints are getting a little stiff..." before turning to Hassan as he, Paul and Jim walked in. She grinned and stretched in front of Hassan to elicit a response... Which she did.

The boy had to avert his eyes as not to show the blush, while Paul and Jim laughed. Paul, however, was sort of fake laughing. Katja, who was sat in a corner of the room, tending to some plant she'd bought for funzees, had noticed it. She walked up to the group, wearing nothing but her own tank top and leggings(which did get her a glare from dear Robert Fetingis the Third, their Military Policeman.

"Don't mind me, just gonna drag Paul out to talk to him..." She said as she grabbed her Hungarian friend by the arm, much to his surprise.

Alexi was eating Chips as he said, "Wonder how loud they'll get, considering what I've been hearing from Ayesha and Hass's room..." so nonchalantly, it stunned the two in question, before both their faces flushed as red as Ayesha's hair. Robert rolled his eyes as he murmured something about 'how many people were gonna fuck by the end of this mess' to himself.

Katja, meanwhile, looked to Paul and asked him directly, "Are you okay...?" which surprised him. He had a momentary pause as he sought to understand the question, but the Polak quickly clarified, "Look, Paul, you've been acting a bit... Different. Like, sure, you seem your usual happy self, if a little fucked by the experiences in Russia, but," and yet again, she hesitated.

"I'm fine, Kat," He replied calmly, "Don't worry about me, 'kay?"

She rolled her eyes. Murmuring, "Like hell I shouldn't..." then gazing at Paul again, her face serious, she started telling him, "You had possibly the most terrifying reaction to hearing me get nuked. Which, fine, I get it, it's awful, but I died with the blast at least. It didn't even hurt that long. You, on the other hand," and all the while more worry filled her voice.

Paul blinked, sighed and walked up to her, then put a hand on top of her head, causing her to pause and start to stammer. He told her, "Thanks for worrying, Kat, but I'm fine. Seriously, I'm happy you're all here and..." He sighed, then smiled at her. Katja knew he wasn't doing so good, obviously. She'd seen the way he acted, for Christ's sake, but it wasn't like she could really press him all that much about it, either.

No, best to let this play out right now. She blushed at the head-pat, then said, "Alright, I guess, Pali," before smirking. Paul snorted and grinned, then started ruffling her hair. She called out, "Ow! Ow! Heh, c'moooon! I just did my hair, for cryin' out loud!" to which both laughed. They only stopped when they heard the roar of engines. Both turned toward where the vehicle noise was coming from, only to pause as they saw Victor, Sam and Lita riding atop a goddamn BMP.

A BMP that also had Russian troops on top of it. Soviet Russian troops, from the looks of things. Katja blanked, eyes shooting wide open as she stared at the dumbfounding sight, before the troops stopped in front of the place, leaving their vehicles in front of the house and dismounting. Vic walked up to Paul and Kat with a smirk, then told them, "You two are gonna love this..." before he paused as he saw Vesna in her tank top and shorts. The young woman rushed, pounced on and hugged him, giggling. She'd obviously missed her beloved, who'd been gone for the better part of the day.

The two kissed, all while Kat and Paul stared at the new arrivals. Diana's team also dismounted and walked up to the group, wearing an apologetic smile while the last of the BMP's crew dismounted. Kat had to fucking suspend her urge to murder the Commies ahead on sight, considering everything else that was ongoing around them, but damned if that didn't leave a sour taste in her mouth. Paul's, too.

Sam also noticed the stares. Fuck, was this gonna be a lot to explain...