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Intro  Name: Dmitri Sokolov Age: 29 Height: 6'5" (196 cm) Nationality: Russian Occupation: Hunter (Specializes in tracking rare beasts and supernatural creatures) Appearance: Tall, imposing figure with a muscular, athletic build. Sharp golden eyes that gleam with an almost predatory intensity. Jet-black hair, slightly messy, falling over one eye. Wears heavy, dark hunter’s gear reinforced with leather and metal, layered with a thick fur cloak to withstand harsh winter climates. His hands are always gloved, and his long sword is never far from his side. Personality: Cold, calculating, and fiercely independent. Speaks little but commands presence with just his gaze. Deeply loyal to those he trusts, though very few earn that privilege. Has a hardened, no-nonsense demeanor shaped by years surviving in the brutal Russian wilderness. Carries a quiet sadness or burden beneath his stoic exterior, hinting at a tragic past. Skills: Master tracker and survivalist, able to navigate the most dangerous terrains. Expert with blades, especially his signature long sword. Sharp senses, honed to detect supernatural presences. Skilled in setting traps and ambushes, both for wild beasts and human prey. Fluent in Russian and English. Background: Dmitri was raised in the coldest, most remote parts of Russia, where survival was a daily battle. Coming from a long line of hunters, he was trained from a young age to track, hunt, and kill. After losing his family to a mysterious creature, he dedicated himself to hunting not just animals, but the supernatural — earning a reputation across Russia and beyond as a man who takes on jobs others fear. Notable Gear: Custom-forged long sword designed to pierce thick hides and supernatural defenses. Heavy fur cloak lined with wolf pelts. Silver and iron rings, talismans against dark creatures. A set of throwing knives hidden under his coat.

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22

Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

As I look up at the summer sky, I notice a bright red biplane flying across this meadow. As I look at the plane, memories of that bloody hell flood my mind... The endless rumble of artillery fire, both in the distance and near... The continuous firing of machine guns at enemy troops... Thousands of soldiers charging towards the enemy lines for the fatherland...
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𝐊ⱺ𝗂𝖼ɦ𝗂 𝐒υ𝗀αωα

Creator

11/05/2025

hehe
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𝐊ⱺ𝗂𝖼ɦ𝗂 𝐒υ𝗀αωα

Creator

11/05/2025

nice
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

And this don't let me post end of my story... idk why
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

I had been lucky and survived the explosion of the artillery battery with only a few small bloody scratches... Charles had again, as if by a twist of fate, become the unfortunate victim of an artillery strike... Not a single recognizable part of him remained... All that remained of him was a vague bloody torso in an unnatural position...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

Machine guns were firing and the artillery was roaring non-stop around us... Men and boys began to fall into no-man's land under the impact of bullets and artillery batteries... Then it happened... Charles and I were advancing side by side towards the enemy trench lines. Suddenly an artillery battery exploded near us... Charles had been closer to it than I was... Its force knocked me into the artillery pit and Charles' blood, guts and other remains directly on top of me...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

It was commonplace for us soldiers fighting at the front to joke about dying and dying... To alleviate the constant fear of death that was brewing among us and the gloomy and oppressive atmosphere of this place... But this time the joke was not just a joke... We rushed together towards the enemy lines...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

As my memories of that hell on earth flood my mind, I return to the day my best friend Charles died... We had been ordered to attack the enemy trench lines again that day. Charles and I were preparing for the attack by routinely checking our equipment when he casually joked to me: "I have a feeling Adrian is going to get hit by artillery fire today, so hold on tight, comrade!" He laughed good-naturedly at his joke and I did too.
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

The explosion of grenades all around... The screams, roars and wails of pain and terror of dying and wounded soldiers... The bodies of thousands of soldiers, both relatively intact and battered by artillery fire... Dead horses, rotting bodies, barbed wire, stuck tanks and men, and a destroyed and desolated landscape as far as the eye can see...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

This enchantment of the summer forest and the variegated splendor of the colors of the flowers in this meadow are the best view in the world for me... Next to the bloody hell that I have had to experience in its terrible entirety...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

Okay here it comes... (I have to send it into pieces...): I am lying in a meadow, looking at the sky. Everything around me is peaceful and alive: birds are chirping in the trees of the nearby forest, butterflies are fluttering around, and the flowers and plants around me are swaying in the gentle summer breeze. The smell of the forest and the flowers is intoxicating... It is like the best perfume for me after everything I have had to endure in the last four years...
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Poppy_Törni

11/05/2025

It's quite amusing to notice how different our two stories are... You have romantic, eloquent stories (your Talkies) and then mine... They're quite... Shall we say peculiar?
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𝐊ⱺ𝗂𝖼ɦ𝗂 𝐒υ𝗀αωα

Creator

11/05/2025

yeah
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