"The ModDB community are basically like an army of Zombies and Whores, with the exception of a few. These people will tear apart anything that doesn't look of exceptional quality." - WelshManDan
ｵﾒﾃﾞﾄｳ(pq´∀`) ┌iiiiii┐ (´∀`pq)ﾊﾟﾁﾊﾟﾁ
Tomorrow will be my Birthday!
One this occasion, I wanted to write that I how much I enjoyed and still enjoy being a member of this fine website of ModDB! Those all years passed with much activity! :D
As I go older, I realized one truth that might or might not be universal. That the older you get the more less attractive the Birthdays get... because you get older. But you still don't lose the vigour of life!
Regarding my Blog attempt, the promised new blog entry will be posted someday during this week, that is for sure. :)
Stay safe & strong everybody! ;)
- Reborn:X The Moderator
October 12th, A Village in the People's Republic of China, 1963.
During the show trials of the Maoist beginnings, a small rural area comes under attention for holding some of the evil people. Here, Soldier Liu experiences his first significant moment in his short, new life. The village was a collision between the old style and the new. The feverous feelings had resulted in the elders of the village being rounded up for questioning, the local defence force being recognized as hostile group and put six feet under. In this action, many of the conflicting entities can bee seen. Soldier Liu, indistinguishable frpm among the rest of his compatriots stands careful and does what his duty requires him to do. In the midst of this now common occurence, several kilometers away from this village something new is having its beginning.
Members of a newly commisioned Special Unit had donned their new special protection uniforms and are receiving field instructions from their officer. Special attention is being paid to their secrecy. The cold breeze can be felt, the space seems to hold little trepidation but a feeling of dread among the security guards attached to the Special Unit. The uniforms are tight, the cold metal containers in the trucks contrast with the wet ground and with the synthetic equipment. The officer had loosened his hat and began to inform the troops about the value of their contribution to the Party and the State today. Later on, after the speech the unit packed into their metal trucks and drove up front. With an unrecognizable emotion being seen on their faces just before departure...
This is how it all had began, initially...
T H E M A N W H O W A L K S P A S T F L O W E R S: P A R T II
T H E R E T U R N ...
October 18th, Somewhere in Central Poland, 1963.
Janusz was driving early morning in his GAZ car past a affluent neighbouring town to buy some supplies and other groceries from the nearby store. The town was quiet at this time of the day. During the drive not many people could be seen. Whereas this was a result of some military exercise of something more sinister Janusz could only ponder about it. If it would have been important. The picturesque but dirty nature of the rural area could be a major topic for a painting. If only the painters of these times would express their interest in it. Thus quietly went the routine drive from the residence and back.
At the same time, a local People's Militia garrison was alarmed about a possibile serious disturbance in the area of the abandoned factory complex. Because of the shortages, a local security element of the military garrison was sent instead to investigate the area. Right after dismounting from their BTR at the entry; a worrying situation has developed. The two guards who did the day shift in the factory complex, making sure to ward off potential looters have been gunned down. Their bodies laying down between the clean pavement and the ugly dirt road, The blood hasn't dried out so it must have been a fairly recent murder and their personal protection equipment is nowhere to be seen. Upon getting to grips with the situation, the patrol leader jumped on board the BTR and turned on the radio equipment, asking for further instructions. The objective now was to search the manufacturing space for any losses, report it and withdraw from the premises for the Militia to finish here.
What has been found in the empty space was beyond the imagination of the patrol leader. The other soldiers continued to cover their sight sectors, Until a strange, sharp noise sprung them back to the position of the patrol leader. It was later recalled after the operation that the face of the junior officer was the one a person could remember for the rest of his life...
T H E E P I L O G U E ...
October 19th, The Reckoning, Somewhere in Central Poland, 1963.
Janusz was once again on the dirt road, he had an important meeting to attend with his buddies. During the short telephone conversation back in his fancy house he could detect the urgency in the voice of one of his buddies. Therefore, it was advised to take much haste. He had to drive through a village famous for it's historical windmill, right when a local festival preparations had started. However, he was forced to an aburpt stop. The statue of the First Leader caught his attention for a second before his saw his former colleague; Officer Jerzy standing in front, looking pissed. It did not take long for the poor man to noticed that an actual tank was dugged in at the outway of the village, with the soldiers taking up firing positions. The yelling that raged few moment later could almost be heard if it wasn't for the piercing sounds of the gunfire enfilade, the deafening activation of the hand grenade by Janusz before he was pulverized. The true facts and the whole story indeed might never be heard of or seen again. Neither by the soldiers of the local garrison who were there as the recovering programme prohibited that. Neither by the local townsfolks of the vicinity as their story is a amalgation of different myths and hearsays that not a serious journalist would consider an information worth mentioning. Yet, there is something more in the story...
T H E G O O D E N D I N G ...
The main protagonist woke up, shivering with cold in the middle of a road with white Winter being only seen around. Look back, only endless white could be seen and a green truck in the middle of the road. Something made him think not to go back, do not go in the truck, do not seek an easy road back or perhaps a salvation. Moving forward, the road was flanked by identical statues of the First Leader everywhere, all pointing the same way, all with the same unrecognizable expression. He walked forward, hoping to find out death or finally an answer to this all.
Before him was only a black abyss, nothing more, complete blackness. Horrified but determined, the only option was to jump in it, find the solution. Submerge in the explanations or die trying. Engulf by the black abyss; he saw short flashes of photographs and images from the history. They looked modern, Eastern like or even Soviet. Upon his last moments a monolith of images flashed in front of him, revealing the entire modern Soviet history and it's tragedies and farces before him. That was the end of the man who walked past flowers...
T H E E N D ...
After a rather long hiatus, the blog is back again on its feet. This time, this entry wil be compose of two parts. After that, a special entry will be posted and the blog with be reborn again in it's new. amazing iteration. This entry is inspired by the Manhunt series of video games by Rockstar and Eastern Bloc symbolism. Thanks to Lyaskavku for the suggestion of the place name.
October 15th, Somewhere in Central Poland, 1963.
Meet Janusz, a man who lives out in his own except for a dog, his machines and a unfunctional household pig farm. He owns the strip of land in which he resides. There is nothing out of the ordinary except for the remarkable quality of his house, built there before his arrival by an unknown party. His daily life includes several chores such as cutting wood, driving to the town for supplies and managing his farm when it is summer. Also, doing daily prayers and paying the support for the State. There is not much worth to tell about him. Indeed, he and his little ecosystem might as well have been a entire life thrown in a bucket of blessed uniformity and routine. This place is often unaptly named as the Snow Rifts village.
The biggest attraction of his life in this month was the passing of an Army armoured column down the main, and only road in these parts. The air was cold around them as they were exiting their vehicles and nothing looked or smelled like it was going to be an unsual day. The trucks slowly quieted down as the soldiers were pracisting a massive pissing scenario, all right. Then, the statue of the great First Leader watched over them with protection.
Janusz decided not to interrupt them for that might have ended up with an unpleasant and potentially dangerous result. After the trucks and the tanks with the soldiers had displaced themselves off the scene of the Snow Rifts and into where their officer knows only; Janusz decided to go on a stroll with the dog. Walking calmly through the weakened October forest but stopping when the dog had picked up something weird. This is the start of an situation that neither he nor the dog could perceive to unfold the way the fate had decided it to do...
This is the personal story of...
T H E M A N W H O W A L K S P A S T F L O W E R S: P A R T I
T H E F L A S H B A C K ...
One Day in Summer, Somewhere in Eastern Poland, 1962.
Janusz and his colleagues drove with the main Huntsman on the back of his vintage Dodge car. They were to meet near the wooden bridge, recently constructed by the local engineering detachment. With the, there also a unnamed Mister Citizen who strangely had stood in between of a pair of old trees, possibly admiring the nature. The Huntsman brought his two young sons and the trusted German Shepard aide for the today's expedition. Janusz was to be a mere watcher of the show, his presence being entrusted here mainly because of his tangible wealth. The local policemen, Jerzy who was standing in the middle of the dirt road was also to partake. Acting as a guardian of the law and the old act which demanded special attention to be paid to guys with guns in fear of them contacting with the system of the old times. Thus, they went on into the unknown of this thrilling, joyful, saddening expedition...
R E M E M B E R M E ...
October 16th, +4 After Incident, Somewhere in Central Poland, 1963.
Officer Jerzy, as he is now called amongst his new and improved buddies was called on the scene of a possible disturbance. Yet, the weather remained the same, calm. Only the eerie feeling emanating for the location of the forest area was breeding discontent within the people. Because of the shortages, Jerzy is to investigate the area ahead personally, supported only by one experienced soldier delegated to evidence securing duties and a quadrivial of People's Militia buddies equipped with firearms from the pre-war weapon stocks. The old but gold Studebaker truck was driven by an Army tankist because of manpower shortages again. He and the another local soldier are to unpack additional ammunition crates in case of an emergency and guard the dirt road behind them. Should someone drive that way they are to stop and search anyone. As Officer Jerzy and his men moved towards the shadowy forest, the backup soldier cocked his kbk AK in expectation of trouble and the tankist unholsted his handgun, leaning against the truck. This is going to be exciting...
As the improvised People's Militia squad moved out from the forest and into the suspicious man-made clearing, firearms at the ready, what they saw was beyond their petty imagination. Suddenly almost everybody realised this situation is not going to leave much space and time for thought and thinking. The Jerzy's squad nervously surveyed the gruesome enviroment, with him momentarily aiming his handgun at the man in front. This rather unspeakable feeling was indeed overwhelming them as the supporting soldier started to lower his rifle, trying reach for the hand grenade tucked inside the jacket. The opposing group however, did not had to share the same emotions and worries as only the worker had stood still. The rest of them were readying up their Mosins and hatchets for the action. Then, the both parties spoke through their respective leaders:
"You're one insane, horrific (...)"
"WE have been made! There is no hope for us in the land of plenty!!"
And then the sounds of the firearms rang throughout the quiet earth.
T O B E C O N T I N U E D ...
In a hazy day in Ukraine, the tanks roll through the bushes, the forest. A lone Russian reinforced straggler mechanized section finds solace in a strange outside of an Ukranian staging area.
Yakhontev and his comrades find themselves isolated. Out of luck and out of radio contact with the rest of the remnants of the Battalion. They position themselves in a peculiar patch of land next to a small water pond, surrounded by marshes all over the area. The atmosphere sings of calmness, not a bird is singing, however. The distant sounds of mortar fire reverberate throughout the land, occiasionally bringing of the soldiers to a state of near panic; thinking they'll be bombarded soon. Yakhontev and his troops are running low on rations, fuel supplies and precious ammunition. The elements of the Reconnaissance Battalion can be thoughts of the soliders through the botched radio traffic as moving close throughout the dense forest. Unconfirmed noises.
Meanwhile, a ragtag Task Force of Ukranian troops goof around near the captured villages, serveral kilometers of Yakhontev location. Oblivious to his existence, for now.
This will be the last blog entry with the Combat Mission series of tactical military simulation video games. As the upcoming entries will gradually shift away from the military fashion imagery.
Due to the various unforseen circumstances and the higher powers (I guess) the next blog entry will be delayed. To the next Sunday on the 24th.
Ignore the filler text. Ignore the filler text. Ignore the filler text. Ignore the filler text.
Reborn:X's blog is back !
Hello everyone once again!
After months of inactivity I finally got to chance to somewhat restart my good old 'screenshot storytelling' blog attempt in a slightly different approach!
I will be trying to post updates every Saturday or Sunday as it was in the previous years. There will be new video games added to the blog, some of them released very recently. Taking into the account how the previous series looked like; this one will be less based on combat and military situations and more on the games that have some more features than just war. However, it does not mean that I'll be moving towards Visual Novels!
So, onto the main attraction. The material of today is Combat Mission: Black Sea. That game about Ukraine that just got released a few months back. The setting on this blog entry is more of a stock one as I do not have enough experience as of now to build up some custom maps. I did my best to edit out the permanent HUD which kind of breaks the feeling that I am trying to present. Hope you will like it!
A n d y e t w e m o v e . . .
. . .
August, Central Ukraine, 2017 AD
Do you have what it takes to blow their helmets off?
Enjoy the smooth early morning breeze, the light rain falling down on the uniforms, your skin, the souless machines, the objects of war.
The Ukranian Army is searching for a group of lost men, stragglers from bygone times. It has reached a small village of Voloske. In the search the screams of birds and the sounds of gunfire had led them to Voloske. It is now considered a specific ground, a area in where one might quite literally; lose mind.
The guys has disembarked from their combat machines are walking foward on an equal pace. No need to rush, no need to run away or to move away from the line. This ground is the easiet ground these scouting boys will have and will be trodding through all their service time.
Do you realize that it is all about radio communication nets?
Soldier (Soldat) J. Ivanova description of the situation:
" Me and my service comrades were walking towards one of the places where the supposed straggler company was last seen. The air is chilly, cold rain is falling down on our helmets and the damp terrain made some of our percious combat vehicles to lose their grip on the formation. We are alone out here I believe. The entire location feels strangly eerie but calm at the same time... "
Nothing out here too, nothing out in the abandoned house too. Guess it would be advisble to cover some more ground with men.
The main road junction with all the important buildings is empty, not a soul present except us.
If we cannot do it, then who can?
Now's the time to get out of shadows. We must work them out before they even notice one of the dropping out.
a n d y e t w e m o v e . . .
I wanted to wish everyone on the ModDB a very happy Easter time, full of joyous moments with your families and perhaps also your significant others! All the best in the upcoming days and may the situation in your area improve if it's bad!
I also wanted to write in this blog entry that my creative input into the ModDB isn't wholly dead. Real life issues as well as my education requirements made it impossible for me to continue my blog. However, now things have changed a little and you all may expect a newly reinvigorated blog of mine in the very near future!
This is the last entry of The Combat Photographer blog attempt. There will be not more entries as this one is considered finished by me now. The topis of this one is mainly the military uniforms. Also, it is a Tom Clancy style entry, which I always wanted to do in the first place. Enjoy!
That's all for now on this passing year.
I wanted to wish all guys a very merry Christmas time! I hope whatever dreams about gifts you have will come true. Plenty of joyful time together with the family & friends filled with best memories and a happy New Year in advance to all!
Ignore this filler text.
TCP blog will continue after the holidays.