Scavenger Hunt

Communal Apartments (5 3)

Novikova is in the basement pulling on her boots. She hums softly as she does. The girl shuffles trying to get them on. There we go! She's bright and awake, as she ties her scarf on over her hair. She seems determined to do SOMETHING during the brief respite. She's trying not to think about artillery, which seems to answer the call for its name. "Hmmm."

Yevgenich is folding a crumpled piece of paper in four and putting it in his hold all. He looks up at Zoya, frowning. Before saying anything he tucks his pencil in a pocket somewhere on his uniform, and standing up. So he can loom over her, as short as he is, "What's going on comrade Novikova?"

Mikhail makes his way down the stairs, humming a little bit to himself. Pausing to watch the people present, before he steps off the stairs, offering a bit of a nod.

Yeek! Novikova seems surprised and blinks at Yevgenich. She smiles sadly. "Well." He can loom if he likes. That's what buddies are for. "All the artillery and this destruction made me think of the store. I do not think anything above ground is going to fare well. Such waste seems a tragedy you know?" Headtilt. She finally has her scarf on to her satisfaction. "I was going to see what I could find and salvage, since I am one of the few people left with a key. Seemed a shame to leave it to to looters and Fascists if they came through," She notes. Her voice is soft though, and she fidgets. She smiles in passing to Mikhail, waving. He can probably hear what's about to go down.

Yevgenich nods slowly through the whole thing, he thinks for a moment. "Well I for one aren't going to let you go out there on your own." That's him volunteering. He nods to Mikhail, "Comrade Malakhov." He says, apparently he remembers it from somewhere, he turns back to Novi, "If we can round up a couple more men, it wont take us long to find what needs finding."

Mikhail nods a little bit as he listens to the others, pausing for a few moments, "Planning a bit of a venture?" he asks, after a few moments of pause.

Novikova takes aa deep breath. "Well, that was a concern too. On the one hand, I would be the only one paying if I did something dumb. But on the other… if there ARE things we could use and I can't carry them alone," She pushes her fingerprints together. "If you like then." Smile. Novi seems to be suggestible. She looks to Mikhail and nods. "I have the shop key. I wanted to see if we could fetch anything useful before it is looted, bombed or carried off by fascists you know?" Fidget.

Maschenko took advantage of a long lull as the artillery swept up the block towards the plaza, having darted upstairs to ransack the kitchen for the few medical supplies he always keeps in there. It won't hold them long, but it's better than the pieces of torn cloth he was bandaged Grigory with last night. His boots thump back down the stairs, not quite at a run but not dallying either. He's sweating a little in the late summer heat, patches dampening the back of his dirt-streaked shirt.

Yevgenich nods. "We shall form a work party then. Get this done before there is more shelling." He assumes Mikhail is in, waiting to ambush Maschenko at the bottom of the steps, "Comrade Maschenko, can you spare a moment?" The guy's a doctor after all. "Comrade Novikova here needs a few of us to help salvage some…" He turns to Zoya and back before finishing, "Valuable medical supplies." He's taking charge, until someone has the sense to stop him.

Mikhail pauses for a little while, "I'll help you guys," he offers, a bit quietly.

Novikova smiles at Yev. "Sure thing." She defers to him on this, him being her elder and a friend. She listens to them. "I've the key to let us in too," She offers. "So there won't be need to break anything unless we need more wood and bars," The girl offers, lacking the sense to stop Yevgenich. "Even if we set the seeds safely into the basement, there's probably flour and some other things."

Maschenko just barely caught the last of what Zoya said as he was coming down the stairs. "So it's not looting when we do it? Hah!" The Ukrainian comes to a halt at the steps bottom, hiking the case of supplies up in the crook of his elbow. "Tak, I have some time." His chin hikes up, indicating the ceiling. "They're going in grid shape with their planes. Should be passing the Institute shortly, won't circle back for at least another three hours if they keep their pattern up." He inches past Yevgenich, leaning down and dumping the armload by the wall. Glass clinks inside. "Just got to watch that fucking artillery. I still hear shelling to the east."

Yevgenich winces as Zoya mentions the flour, he pretends to ignore it. He listens to Maschenko. "We should be safe from the planes, if we got the round way then." He mutters. He ignores the looting question. He looks around, "Pity we still haven't got any tools for digging, could come in useful." He heads up the stairs, calling back, "We don't need to be reminded what to do in case of shelling do we comrades?" His voice gets fainter as he hurries up the steps.

Novikova sticks her tongue out, "Unlike the looters I worked on those things. I mean - I can understand what you mean, but the truth of it is even looters are preferable to the Fascists taking all that stuff," She folds her arms and smiles. "We will share it too." She promises. She nods at Yev. "Right. There might be tools there though," She taps her chin. And take cover if shelling happens. She blinks at Maschenko. "That's really impressive. I wish I could hear like that." It might not be hearing in the literal sense, but Novi is duly impressed. She smiles at the three and follows after Yev. "Here goes nothing."

Maschenko wipes his temple off with his rolled-up sleeve. "Just keep the time when they come overhead, comrade. You'll hear it too." Sitting about for hours, one can't really help it. "Let's go before Hitler decides to make 'one' the new 'three'." A nod to Mikhail and he turns to start up the steps again after Yev.

Surplus Market (3 5)

Yevgenich lets Zoya lead the way, he never goes for food. Though he does barely recognise the place when he gets there. At least he can point out Novi's counter. He marches up to it. "Well we better get started." He says, uncertainly. Unsure of wear exactly to dig. "What do we need to find? The flour and the seeds?" He's got his bare hands for digging.

There's not a lot to pick over. Zoya leads them easily, unlocking as she goes. "Well. There isn't much to be honest," She admits quietly. But even Novikova figures some is better than none. There's a tiny bit of flour, some root veggies stored away, a few tools and some shoes. Not a lot, but it's better than zero right. "If worst comes to worst, we can break things up for wood too," She points out. "The bricks might be useful. I'm sorry there isn't more," She seems a bit sad.

Mikhail looks around as they move in, "What kind of shoes?" he asks, frowning a little bit. Looking around a bit more carefully, he pauses a bit. "And everything's better than none, that's true."

It's Maschenko's first time outside the circle of wreckage directly around their apartment block. That the rest of the city is in such smoking, rumbling shambles managed to silence even him for a time, his focus on making it to the market without getting hit by shells or lost in one of the increasing piles of incredible damage. "Sooka suna…" He mutters under his breath as they pick their way in through the rubble. The words aren't Russian, but his tone isn't happy. "We won't be able to do much with flour in that basement. Things we can eat raw are the best bet."

Yevgenich was expecting to dig, he deflates a bit, so now he's even smaller. For the first time he actually notices the extent of the damage. "We'll take the flour, there might be no gas but there is always water." He looks around. "Comrade Novikova, you came for your plants?" He turns his attention to the tools, they might come in useful, he scoops them up. "We'll have to cook some food." He insists, "We can take some wood for that." though what they'll light it with he doesn't know.

Poor Yev. Novi might hug him or something later. It's tough seeing him deflate like that. "It held up well. Good ole Soviet brick," She comments quietly, nudging a bit of a brick away. She sighs softly. "Just some old work boots. Nothing fancy. These days- things go to work, not sit in storage," Novikova points out quietly. There's probably enough things like potatoes or turnips for a few meals. At best. Their luck is shining. She takes a deep breath. "Alright. Flour is in there. And ah, I wish. But - they aren't really edible so I guess it's best to worry about tools and food first," She seems a bit sad at that, but accepts it. "There's not much… I feel bad, but there you go." She offers and shrugs. She'll help move things out, nudging aside rubble. She'll probably take the few veggies.

Mikhail pauses a bit as he listens thoughtfully, "Let's see those boots, then. Someone might need them at some point." He then looks over as Maschenko, "Porridge from water and flour is probably better than nothing, wouldn't you say?" Looking around for anything else that might be usable.

"I've got matches still," Maschenko mutters to Yevgenich, as his eyes turn around the ruined building. Benefits of bunking with a heavy smoker. "We can light things, we'll just have to be careful." Fires draw attention, after all. He pulls his battered jacket off his shoulder, something he grabbed on the way out even in this heat — its purpose becomes clearer as he throws it over the counter, grabbing up what shriveled foodthings he can spot and laying them inside to be carried in impromptu sack. "It's more than nothing, Comrade Zoyenka. Better 'not much' than starving while we wish for something better." He glances over his shoulder at the student. "If you had any raw garlic in here that made it, I can use that." Medically, one assumes from the comment.

Yevgenich has a set of pruning shears and a trowel, a shovel would be nice but a trowel's the same just smaller. Both of these go in his holdall, who knew a paper holding bag could come in so useful. He takes the flour too. "Shall we tear off a few planks then comrades?" He starts anyway, it's good wood here and there and it wont bring the building down on them, hopefully. Well he's got what he came for, flour, a couple of gardening implements and two short planks. Hope he doesn't walk past a Commissar.

"Da," They're a pair of sturdy, if ugly boots or two there. She nods and will hand them to Mikhail. Zoya smiles. She nods at Maschenko. She pauses. "There's a few cloves, we were saving that for a special occasion to hand out," Then really, now is a good at time as any. In a drawer, there is a small satchel. A few precious cloves. Two little garlic bulbs. That's it. She offers them to Maschenko. "I will carry some planks then," Nod. Though the building is largely brick. Don't want store rooms coming down on you after all. For now, her spirits are lifting despite the state and amount of what they are finding. "That's all then I think."

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).

"Behind the counters!" Novi calls, at the sound of artillery. It's not much, but it's something.

«Game» Novikova moves into Counters.
«Game» Yevgenich moves into Counters.

"Yeah, comrade. Let's get that wood." Maschenko rolls up the big bundle of stuff on the counter and turns around to head over to help Yevgenich with the pulling. Right as artillery starts up nearby. "Shit…get down."

«Game» Maschenko moves into Counters.

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).

«Game» Mikhail moves into Counters.

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

Mikhail starts moving down some of those planks, when he hears the sound of the artillery. "Like old times…" he mutters a bit absently, moving over to drop behind the counter with the others.

Yevgenich isn't far behind Zoya. Though, he's listening out for it like Maschenko said, "Sounds like south west." He murmurs. "Our apartment's that way." It may be obvious he says it anyway. "A bit away." This doesn't bring him out from behind the counters. Good thing too, artillery gets closer.

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Mira Street (2 5).

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

Alas, Zoya doesn't remember a time without Stalin or Lenin. Her hazel eyes are wide as she takes the chance to huddle behind the counters. This is about the safest place she can think of. She pulls her legs close to her chest. "I really don't like this artillery," She admits quietly, listening as Maschenko said. Her head tilts. She nods at Yev. "I think you are right."

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage rips through Surplus Market to deadly effect, filling the air with lethal shrapnel!
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

Maschenko blows out air between pursed lips, head turning slightly under the lip of the counter as the artillery rolls closer. "It-…" He doesn't get to finish as a shell hits one of the far walls of the market, sending wood and brick blasting through the air. "Fuck!"

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage rips through Surplus Market to deadly effect, filling the air with lethal shrapnel!
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Stalingrad - Industrial Area (3 6).

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage batters Surplus Market ineffectually.
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

Yevgenich bends down next to Zoya as shrapnel starts flying about. He nods to her, but doesn't say anything else. He's keeping his head down, and hoping everyone else is too. The shaking is noticeable though.

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage batters Surplus Market ineffectually.
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage rips through Surplus Market to deadly effect, filling the air with lethal shrapnel!
«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

Zoya squeaks, hearing the shell blast brick. "Thankfully, it is a brick building…" Novikov is grateful for her co-workers' wisdom. She will inch a little closer to poor Yev seeing the shaking. She is nearby at least. "And thankfully someone was wise enough to make counters of the same," She shivers wincing at all the noise. Though, how much more the sturdy store and its counters can hold out is anyone's guess. She's just grateful to huddle in cover.

«Artillery» 90mm mortar artillery barrage batters Surplus Market ineffectually.
«Artillery» Artillery barrage at Surplus Market has lifted!

«Artillery» You hear artillery pounding Surplus Market (3 5).

Mikhail mutters a bit to himself as he ducks down further. "Brick will be harder, should it break and bury us," he offers a bit darkly, before he shrugs a little bit. "We'll survive, though."

Broken glass and bits of pots and shelves crash down on the counter tops, splinters whicking by in the air. As the rumbling sounds roll on down the street, Maschenko finally lifts his head, cautiously. His face has lost a bit of color. "They're moving."

Horrible. Zoya may have loved those pots once. She frowns at Mikhail's comment. She had not thought of that. A slow nod. "I guess we will gather up that wood, these things and go. Germans must be lousy timekeepers."

Yevgenich shoots up once he's sure the barrage has moved away. "Probably as safe to stay in here after a shelling as it is out there comrades." He comments looking up. "Good bricks as they are. We should get out of here." He gathers up his planks of wood, and gets out from behind the counter, apparently not bothered about having large metal thrown at him at great speeds anymore.

At that, Zoya peeps out cautiously. Novikova takes a deep breath and starts to pull a plank or two. "I think I can get a little wood. But we'd better not stick around I think."

"Those were shells," Maschenko says to Zoya, as he uncurls off his dirty knees and crawls back out from under the counters. "It's the bombers that keep good time, one thing the sons of bitches can do right." Lucky for them, perhaps. He stands up, grabbing up the armload of food and wood wrapped up in his jacket, and motions with his head to collapsed brick hole that used to be the door. His boots crunch on glass, though it's impossible to tell if that's new debris or just part of the old. "Grab it on the way out, Zoyenka. Come on."

Mikhail gets to his feet and hurries to pull off a few planks. "Let's go home," he offers, with a bit of a nod, glancing towards the others, "If nobody objects, of course."

Yevgenich isn't about to object, though he does wait for everyone else to leave first, he's hot on their tails. It's time to go home, or what's left of it. His footing isn't very sure on the rubble abut he makes decent progress, maybe lagging a little behind.

A frown and a nod. Zoya brushes herself out, takes the plank she has and scampers along after. She sighs at the state of the shop now. It has been drained. It will simply dampen further bombings. She shakes her head sadly for a second. her boots crunch along as well. "Got it! Coming!" She chirps and follows along, just before Yevgenich. She seems fairly nimble, though it is unlikely she would be a gymnast. "I think I believe that, though," She agrees with Maschenko ruefully.

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