Yet another rainy evening and me walking home under the path set by street lights. Now, as in every ex Soviet block country, the bright orange lights gave the earth nothing but a tint of misery. Glowing green bushes during the day were now dark blue masses on the side of the road, marking an invisible wall before the open fields and forests.
Apartment walls were passing-by if not slower than a Stop sign, then maybe as a siren locked onto a teammate. Just as painful, its AOE scream hurts no matter whether you look at it or not.
The gigantic concrete statues walking by were slowing to a halt. No more were they looking at the pedestrians with their yellow spotlights, for as it seemed both had disappeared. It needn't be an actual eye to instill the horror - it's hidden meaning was to strike faster than a husk in a race with your already thrown grenades.
Yes, the element of fire was consuming. There, on that wall, where all the prejudiced were marked.
We, against the fiery menace were to be drowned in the holy conquest of the burning-liquid-throwers. It was no Pyro gas-mask!
In it's next moment of unreal existence, it was standing beside me.
The Firebug icon was above its head, blazing a man's sight, sanity and steady average FPS.
It did not talk. Keyboards could never type.
Standing - Mouse1 held down, it burned a message and branded me merely as a livestock commando.
Message could never be more clear, human skin was its natural textbook.
The Firebugs are coming.
Their Leader has arrived and the march has begun.
Please,
Sharpshooters, Medics, Commandos, Pipehatters and AA12 warriors,
Do not risk establishing yourselves on top of the scoreboard. It is only righteous to those of diabolical, hellish descent. Today, those are known as Firebugs.
Apartment walls were passing-by if not slower than a Stop sign, then maybe as a siren locked onto a teammate. Just as painful, its AOE scream hurts no matter whether you look at it or not.
The gigantic concrete statues walking by were slowing to a halt. No more were they looking at the pedestrians with their yellow spotlights, for as it seemed both had disappeared. It needn't be an actual eye to instill the horror - it's hidden meaning was to strike faster than a husk in a race with your already thrown grenades.
Yes, the element of fire was consuming. There, on that wall, where all the prejudiced were marked.
We, against the fiery menace were to be drowned in the holy conquest of the burning-liquid-throwers. It was no Pyro gas-mask!
In it's next moment of unreal existence, it was standing beside me.
The Firebug icon was above its head, blazing a man's sight, sanity and steady average FPS.
It did not talk. Keyboards could never type.
Standing - Mouse1 held down, it burned a message and branded me merely as a livestock commando.
Message could never be more clear, human skin was its natural textbook.
The Firebugs are coming.
Their Leader has arrived and the march has begun.
Please,
Sharpshooters, Medics, Commandos, Pipehatters and AA12 warriors,
Do not risk establishing yourselves on top of the scoreboard. It is only righteous to those of diabolical, hellish descent. Today, those are known as Firebugs.
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