/wfg/ Writefag General-playing dress up edition

Will be posting a Damaged Good's short here in a minute. Just gotta break it down to 2000 character chunks.

Hey guys I'm back. I'm drafting the final touches for chapter four and storyboarding chapter five. I don't have a definitive timetable as to when you'll receive the updates but most likely you'll receive chapter five in it's entirety this week.

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>>33308031
>>33308049
>new updates on both Sophie and Nike

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Woods Walk Wednesdays - A Damaged Goods Short Story

>”He said it would be up tonight!” Ellie whined
“Just give it some time.”

>All the girls, as well as yourself were up extra late tonight in anticipation of the upload, there was no way Ellie was going to let anyone miss this

>Everyone, including yourself, was in their PJ’s; it was nice to have a comfy night like this with the girls for once, as work has had you working overtime for the past few months, leaving you with little to no quality time to spend with them

>Yawning, you check the clock once more

11:30 PM

>You’ll give it another 20 minutes before calling it… you have work tomorrow; not to mention you were planning on finally picking up one of those LEO trade-in Beretta’s tomorrow

>”It’s up it’s up!!” Ellie yelled, the far too large Federal Ammo shirt bouncing with her pigtails

>The LCP had been anxiously hammering the F5 button on your laptop for the past hour

>” ’Bout time.” Shelly said nonchalantly, trying to catch another piece of popcorn in her mouth that Katya had tossed
>And missing, again

“You guys are cleaning that up before I go to bed you know…”
>”Whaaaat-ever.” the Mossberg 500 retorted

>The sound of an aerosol can hissing breaks your attention from the mess in front of you
>Julie, your M16A2 clone walks into the living room, wearing an O.D. tee and matching shorts, toothbrush in hand busily scrubbing away

>”You know, this Ballistol stuff isn’t too bad, Ellie.” the toothbrush causing Julie to mumble. “It’s very pine-y.”
>”Hey, that was given to me!” Ellie cries in protest
>”Please, he sent you home with a whole case of the stuff!” Julie said, walking back to the bathroom; dirty blond ponytail bobbing with each step

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Got some Districts in Dust for you guys.

http://pastebin.com/LNh5JQdK

>>33308078
Woods Walk Wednesdays (cont.)

>Katya, your Krinkov, had taken her normal spot in the recliner, wearing her usual hoodie (your favorite hoodie…) but opting for a pair of plaid lounge pants instead of her skirt; a feline tail barely peaking out from behind her, while pointed ears remained hidden beneath the hood

>Shelly on the other hand, was far less… “conservatively” dressed, wearing only a sports bra and a pair of black, slightly too short athletic shorts; showing off her admittedly impressive midriff
>Short, sandy blond hair put up in a ponytail, leaving some bangs swept back behind her ears, giving you a clear view of her aggressive, yellow speckled blue eyes
>She was just to your left, sharing the couch with you

>Sarah and Sally, your Ruger Security Six and S&W 629, who were wearing more traditional matching PJ’s; knelt at the coffee table playing a game of Blackjack, using spent .38 cases as “money”

>Ellie continued to struggle with the laptop

“Need some he-”
>”Got it!!”

>The “Hickok and Friends” Youtube page displayed on the flatscreen

>”Anna, hurry!” Ellie hollered, barely keeping herself contained
>”Coming!” came a melodic reply from the kitchen

>Anna, your 1903-A3 came shuffling out from around the corner, wearing plain black lounge pants and an old white tee-shirt; her long chestnut hair worn down, a blanket draped across her shoulders and fresh bowl of popcorn in hand

>”Scootch!” she said playfully, bumping you up against Shelly with her hip
>Anna tosses a fleece blanket across the couch, large enough to cover all three of you, before sliding under and up against you

>”Better keep your hands to yourself, Anon.” Shelly said sadistically
>You knew better than to respond at this point

>Julie came jogging back out, quickly taking a seat on the floor directly in front of you; leaning up against your legs

“Keeping those locking lugs clean, Julie?”

>>33308096
Woods Walk Wednesdays (cont.)

>Tilting her head back so that it is resting in your lap, you catch a glimpse of her navy blue eyes before she gives you a close-eyed, toothy grin
>*Blows into your face* “You tell me.”

>The overwhelming scent of pine nearly causes your eyes to water
*Cough* “Yup, yup… you’re good…”

>”Shhh, I’m starting it!” the LCP yelled, turning off the lights before running back to sit in Julie’s lap

>The Hickok and Friends tune starts as a collage of his various shooting videos, as well as interviews with various movie geists plays

*”Hickok45 here. It’s Wednesday, and you all know what that means… Yes, its Woods Walk Wednesday! That one day where one lucky Geist gets chosen at random to help us do a little pest control. Heh heh.”*

>The camera pans out, revealing Ellie standing next to the giant of a man
>A mature looking woman whose head only came up to Hickok’s chest, dressed in old western period clothing flanked the two; curly blond hair, brown eyes and a generous bust could only mean it was Elleanor, Hickok’s famous Colt Single Action Army

>”There’s me! There’s me!” Ellie said, exclaiming the obvious
>”Shh!” came unanimously from your living room

*”And today have… uhhh… sorry sweetheart, what was your name aga-”*
>”ELLIE!!!”
*”Ha Ha Ha. Whoa! Ellie!”* he said, chuckling. *”We have a live one here today folks! Heh heh. Yes, Ellie the LCP, one of the best selling pocket carries on the market today.”*

>You didn’t even have to see Ellie’s face to know she was getting a huge kick out of this

*”Today, Ellie is going to help me with a bit of a two-liter problem we are having on the compound; darn things just don’t know when to quit now do they? Heh heh. Tell me, hun, are you ready to get started?”*
>”YEAH!” Ellie yelled, hands balled up and quivering with excitement

>Reaching down, Hickok graspsEllie, the LCP nearly disappearing in his massive palm

>>33308110
Woods Walk Wednesdays (cont.)

*”Now these may only hold six shots, but six shots of .380 is nothing to sneeze at folks. Good thing we have a few extra magazines on us though, heh heh.”*

>As Hickok continued talking about various specs of LCPs, making his way to the trail, you started to feel movement on your right under the blanket

*”Let’s see, where are these rascals hiding… There’s some!”* *BANG BANG*
>A couple two-liters popping down in the brush

>Anna’s hand was slowly running down your forearm, until her fingers found your own, intertwining them together

*”Oh! This one’s trying to sneak up on us!”* *BANG*

>She knows how things have to be between you two ever since you had started buying the other girls years ago, making sure no one started to get jealous or feel neglected, but she still found ways to be sneaky about her affection

*”He’s getting away!”* *BANG BANG*

>You give her hand a reassuring squeeze

*”Gotta do a tactical reload here!”*

>Hickok ran through the rest of the course, getting to the “special” final two-liter that always manages to show up in each Woods Walk Wednesday

*”That might have been the last of ‘em… but you can never be too careful around these sneaky soda- Oh no, watch out!!”*
>A final two-liter goes flying through the air, probably thrown by Eleanor
>*BANG BANG BANG* *“OH! We got it!! Hah heh heh heh”*

>”WOO!” Ellie yells on Julie’s lap
>You can’t help but chuckle at her sheer excitement

*Phew* *“Boy, these suckers really are crafty…”* Hickok says as he opens his palm, signaling Ellie to change back
*”Thank you very much for helping me clear those two-liters out. Did you have fun sweetie?”*

>Face covered in carbon smudges, Ellie shakes her head vigorously in agreement before latching onto his leg

>>33308124
Woods Walk Wednesdays (cont.)

*”Heh heh heh. Well folks, we here at Hickok and Friends would like to thank Federal for providing the ammo we used today, as well as Bud’s Geist-shop for helping us in all that we do. And remember, if you want your Geist to be featured on a Woods Walk Wednesday, send us an email and you’ll be entered into the drawing. Life is good.”*

>Releasing your hand, Anna brings hers up, giving Ellie her own little round of applause, The Twins and Julie joining in

>”You were did great!” Anna said, wearing her pleasant smile
“Good job, Ellie.” you said, rustling up her hair

>Ellie was elated, barely able to speak as the others gave their congratulations

>You couldn’t help but have a huge smile yourself, it had been so long since you were able to simply spend a night like this with all of the girls, you had nearly forgotten how nice it could be
>And still, your little “family” would be growing once again tomorrow

“Heh…”

>Your mind can’t help but think back to Hickok’s signature sign off

>”What is it, Anon?” Anna says, her jade eyes gazing into your own

“Oh, it’s nothing.” your smile lingering

>Life really is good

End.

Hope you guys enjoyed this Damaged Goods short.

Wanted to take a break and "stretch my legs" a bit from the main story line. Please excuse any small grammatical errors, as I just whipped this up yesterday.

Let me know if you guys would like to see more shorts like this in the future, or if I should just stick strictly to the main story.

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>>33308134
>>33308161

That was comfy. I like.

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>>33308134

>>33308161
Good stuff, Construct! Small breaks from stories, especially one as heavy as yours, are always welcome in my opinion.

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>>33308134

>>33308161
good stuff m8, i would say more short stories since this ones tend to be kinda comfy

>>33308082
N E A T

this stuff is golden

More night reich when I get back from machine shop.

new pico hot off the presses

Pico looks up at you, mouth agape. "Ice cream?"
>"Yes Pico, ice cream. There's a store nearby that sells some."
>Pico is ecstatic, fidgeting excitedly in her seat. She barrages you with questions about flavors and brands.
>You tell her to shush as you pull out onto the main road.
>She obliges but it's clearly very hard, as she is looking around with wide eyes.
>A short drive passes and you pull infront of the supermarket and park. You wonder if you should carry Pico or let her be her human form.
>You say fuck it and let he be her human form. Almost no one here knows you anyway, so...
>You help Pico out of the car and enter the supermarket. Pico is tightly gripping your hand and pulling you towards the frozen foods section
>You follow her as she pulls you to the ice cream section and she presses her face up against the glass.
>At this point you can help but stand back and be amused as she looks over every possible flavor and flavor combination.
"Ooh signore I want this one!" She motions for you to come over so you do. You move her aside and open the chilled door.
>You pull out a large tub of Neopolitan icecream. You don't know what you expected.
>You carry the tub of ice cream to the cashier while Pico wraps her hand around yours, hiding shyly behind your legs.
>The cashier looks down at her and smiles. "Your daughter is adorable, mister."
>Pico whispers something quietly and stands closer to you, embarassed.
>You say thank you and pay for the ice cream and walk Pico back to the car where she climbs inside and you place the ice cream on her lap.
>The drive home is unusually quiet but when you pull into your reserved parking spot you look over at Pico.
>She's opened the ice cream and has begun eating it with her hands, covering her clothes in ice cream.
>"Pico come on, really?" You complain exiting the car, running over to her side and pulling her out
>Pico giggles as you lock your car and pull her inside your apartment.

>>33308649
>eating ice cream in car

i may or may not be triggered

>>33308649
and here's part two of this day's edition

>You groan as you get your hands covered in sticky strawberry ice cream.
>You carefully maneuver her past all the furniture and to the bathroom.
>Shower-tub combos are truly a blessing this day and age.
>You grab a wet towel and begin to towel off her hands, wiping it around her face.
>She giggles some more, telling you that it tickles.
>You sigh as you clean her off completely, except for her clothes.
>"Pico stay here, I'll try to find you more clothes." You run out of the bathroom and pull open drawers.
>You scavenge a concert t-shirt and more socks and return to the bathroom. Pico is fumbling to take off her shirt.
>Turning on the hot water you help her remove her clothes, test the water and gently carry her in.
>"Alright Pico, I trust you enough to leave you here alone. No splashing, just stay here calmly, alright. Don't turn that knob either."
"Yes signore, you can trust me." She gives you a beaming smile.
>Nodding slowly and leave the bathroom and sit on the couch.
>Your mind goes back to the store clerk. 'Your daughter is adorable'... could you even consider Pico a person, much less a daughter?
>You go back in forth over your mind, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. You don't even realize that Pico must have been in the bath for at least an hour.
>You quietly check on her, seeing her sitting serenely in the tub with her eyes closed, head above the water. You quietly whisper her name.
>HEr eyes flutter open and she looks at you lazily. "Come on Pico, time to get dressed." You say softly.
>You drain the tub and help her out and grabbing a dry towel begin to towel her off.
>Her crazy hair becomes fuzzy and poofed up from the static, and you share a laugh. Finally you put her new clothes on and pat her on the head.

>>33308855
cute...

>>33308076
Sorry, no Sophie in this short story!

>>33308182
>>33308270
>>33308347
Glad you guys enjoyed it!

>>33308341
>>33308412
Short stories are nice, got it! I'll keep that in mind in case anything hits me as I continue writing the main story.

>>33308134
The feelings of comfort only makes the tragedy currently happening all the more bitter.

>>33308855
Adorable!

>>33294400
>Ehh, speaking in sauna is... hard to explain. Like unwritten rules. Not like it's not allowed, but certain topics are off limits i think
>>33294415
>...what topics?
>>33295347
>desu, i think you are better off asking our resident Finn. He could probs give you a better answer
I can't think of any such topics at this time, so many variables (are you with family, with friends, with strangers, are there children present, is everyone drunk, is it a mixed sauna etc.) mostly don't be an obnoxious ass, if everyone is quiet don't start singing "Internationale", if there are nekkid women in the sauna, don't, just don't, things like that.

>>33308161
Ah man, that was fun, top stuff mate.

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>>33308855
so much adorable

>>33309264
While I agree that the barrel shroud looks like M1919, the receiver, the shovel handles and the charging handle say it's an M2

>>33309100
I just thought it would be nice to show a little bit of comfort that Anon had before the main story happened. Hope you enjoyed it man.

>>33309542
Thanks Vampire!

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So I decided to continue the M1928A1 story I posted last thread. A little longer this time around, I hope you all enjoy.

Pastebin here if you prefer to read there. This update is from line 75: http://pastebin.com/AfGmeYZz

-------------------------------------

August 3rd, 1942
Somewhere over North Carolina, United States of America


“STAND UP!”

Henry’s eyes shot open as he rose to his feet instinctively at the command, taking a minute to steady himself against the shaking metal frame of the C-47. Holding onto the straps on the front of his harness, he drew in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself.

A heavy hand clasped on his shoulder. “You ready for this!?” came from behind him, the thinly-accented voice barely audible above the din of the Skytrain’s twin rotor blades.

Henry struggled to look over his shoulder, the heavy pack on his back restricting his movement. “I’m ready!” he yelled back at Dario, the short Italian’s brown eyes staring back up at him.

“What!?”

“HOOK UP!”

Turning back around, Henry reached down to his side and grabbed the metal hook dangling next to his leg, bringing it up to the rail running along the short roof. Checking that the latch would hold, Henry felt Dario’s hand grab hold of his shoulder again, prodding him to do the same to the man standing in front of him, signaling he was ready.

Henry craned his neck around to look towards the front of the fuselage, the red light by the doorway shining throughout the plane ominously. Returning to his original stance, Henry took another deep breath, his heart pumping deafeningly in his ears, cutting out the loud whirring and shaking of the plane. Even though this was only his third jump, he always dreaded the wait for the signal, the anticipation causing his stomach to knot and his knees to shake unlike anything else he had ever experienced.

“GREEN LIGHT!”

Then a pause.

“JUMP!”

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>>33310135

He took a wobbly step forward as the line in front of him began to move, having to reach out to the fuselage again to support his weight. Once more, a hand came down on his shoulder. “I’ve go… ep mov…!” Dario shouted from behind him, his words being drowned out by the roaring engines.

Dario gave him a hard shove in the shoulder, sending Henry stumbling forward into the man ahead of him. “WATCH IT, HENRY!” Johnny shouted in his southern drawl, turning back around slightly. “DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT PUSHING ME OUT, YA HEAR!?”

Righting himself, Henry shook his head and continued forward as the line continued to move, following closely behind his friend. “HURRY IT UP, BROCKMAN!” the man standing next to the fuselage door shouted, stepping forward to grab Johnny by the shoulder, pushing him to the opening.

In an instant, Johnny was gone as he stepped out, the howling of the wind taking his place at the line. “YOU TOO, GRAF!” the man shouted, Henry now realizing who it was thanks to the grubbing looking face, and the three upward facing arrows on his M1 helmet. Sergeant Hale reached out, grabbing Henry by the elbow, and dragged him to the door.

Henry squinted as his eyes adjusted to the change in light, his stomach dropping as he looked out before him. Before he could hesitate, Henry found himself bracing both hands on the frame, propelling himself out into the air, deciding to rather jump now instead of waiting and being pushed out of the C-47 like on his first jump.

The breath was knocked out of Henry’s chest as his chute pulled, bringing him to a near standstill. Gasping for air, he brought his hands up to hold onto the risers extending above him to wrestle some control out of his chute.

Gonna continue with Cultural Exchange, finally.
For those who couldn't find my Pastebin last thread, here: http://pastebin.com/Qg2h7dxy
For those who need a refresher on the story so far: http://pastebin.com/00Bj0rbJ

“FUCK!”
>Glancing down you saw the blonde, who was just sitting in front of you leaning over the table, leaning over, clamping down hard with her teeth on your thumb, her eyes closed tightly.
“Would you mind letting go of my thumb?” you asked, annoyed at the predicament you found yourself in.
>Her teeth stopped apply pressure as she slowly moved her head away from your hand, looking directly into your eyes and smiling.
“The hell was that about?”
>She moved back into her seat, keeping the smile and eye contact, not at all ashamed about the mark she left on your thumb.
>You glared into her eyes, then moved your head towards the Arisaka, who was smiling just as much, then back to the Garand.
“Well?”
>“You shouldn’t leave your thumbs open like that Jo- Um… I’m sorry, but what’s your name?” the Japanese girl asked.
“Anon, and what’s this about my thumbs?”
>“That’s a funny name. I’ve never heard of someone having the name of Anon, have you?” she said, turning to the Garand.
>“Hmm… I think I knew a BAR whose shooter’s name was Anon,” the Garand said, furrowing her brow and crossing her arms in thought.
“No really, what’s this about my thumbs?”
>“Okay, I see… Anon, what’s your relation to John?”
“Wha- Why? And neither of you are answering the thumb question.”
>“He looks remarkably like John… Wouldn’t you agree? He has to be a relative of some sort,” the Garand mused.
>“Aside from his height, I suppose so. So, Anon, how are you related to John?”
“He was my great-uncle, but I never met him. Also, I’m really going to need an answer on the thumb thing.”
>“I’m surprised you got his looks, seeing that you’re pretty removed from him,” the Jap noted.

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>>33310148

Gathering his bearings, he looked around him, and could see dozens of cream-coloured parachutes floating through the North Carolina sky, a stark contrast to the green forests and bright blue firmament that stretched out in all directions. Directly below, green smoke rose from a field, a handful of parachutes already laying on the ground.

Henry started to laugh as he descended towards the drop zone, not having to manipulate his course as he approached the field. The cool, rushing air around him and the near weightlessness he felt made him giddy, the adrenaline from practice drop coursing through his blood as his laughter began to settle down.

Approaching the ground, Henry drew his knees up into his chest, doing his best to come in at a shallow angle like they had been instructed to during training. His feet shot out from beneath him as he made contact with the ground, sending him falling onto his ass, pain radiating upwards from his tailbone and into his back.

Sliding a good few feet, Henry managed to plant one foot in the long grass to bring him to a complete halt, his parachute falling onto the ground behind him. After sitting for a second and grimacing from the pain caused by his mistake, Henry turned over onto his knees, unclasping the hooks at the bottom of his chute, and balling up the line and canopy in one giant tangle, folding it up beneath his arm.

“You really took a tumble there, didn’t ya, Henry?” Johnny shouted, running up from behind Henry and slapping him on the back. “Coming in at a million miles an hour and landing flat on ya butt! Looks like ya shit yourself!”

Henry grabbed the back of his pants, wiping his hand along them before bringing them it up to his face, now covered in dark brown dirt. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

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>>33310166

“AAAAAAHHH SHIIIITTT!” A green blur went sailing past the two men, tumbling head-over-heels as it landed hard in the grass, the parachute canopy coming to rest on top of the figure. Henry and Johnny locked eyes, giving each other a knowing look.

Johnny moved first, running over to the downed man. “How many times are ya gonna fall on ya face, Dario? The Germans ain’t gonna wait for ya to dust yourself off, ya know?” he asked, Henry helping pull the cloth off to reveal the American-Italian laying face-down in the grass.

“Save me the lecture and help me up, you damn hick.” Dario murmured, pushing himself up into a kneeling position and doing his best to brush off the dirt on his chest.

Henry unclipped Dario from his chute, helping him fold it quickly before following Johnny towards the road that ran along the field, a handful of fatigue-clad men already clambering into the waiting trucks.

As he jogged, Henry reached down to pat along the outside of his right leg, his hand wrapping around the stock of his M1928A1 that clung tightly to his side. Smiling, he let go and continued onwards through the tall grass, getting a helping hand as he climbed up the embankment to the road and extending the same help to Dario, who followed behind him.

Reaching the back of one unfilled truck, Henry pulled himself halfway up into the back, by was stopped by a shout from behind him.

“Private Graf!”

Startled, Henry’s hands slipped, and he stumbled back onto the dirt road. Whirling back around, Henry came face-to-face with the intimidating form of Captain Wilcox, who was sneering down at him in a frown.

“Sir!” Henry shouted, whipping his arm up into a salute as he stood rigid.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that little shit-stain on the back of your pants!” The Captain shouted even louder, pushing his face closer to Henry’s. “Were you really that scared that you would mess yourself like a baby!?”

“No, Sir!”

“Then what was it!?”

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>>33310184

“I fell during landing, Sir!” Henry admitted, his throat tightening as he spoke, not daring to look away from the Captain.

Captain Wilcox recoiled back in mock shock. “You FELL!? By gods, that’s even worse than shitting yourself! How are you supposed to fight if your break you ass before you can even start!?”

“I’m sorry, Sir!”

The Captain pointed over to the side of the road. “Get over in that ditch, you’re walking back to base.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Stumbling over, Henry carefully slid back into the bottom of the drainage ditch, looking back at the trucks. “You too, Private Falco!” The Captain shouted at Dario, spotting the dirt on his front.

Dario said nothing as he trotted over and stood beside Henry, the trucks beginning to take off as the last few paratroopers were loaded in. As they pulled away, Henry could see the angry glare of Captain Wilcox staring at them, Johnny’s sorry face peering out from behind him as he offered them a shrug.

The two men stood staring off at the distance for a few moments, before Dario fell against the dirt embankment, taking off his helmet and staring into the azure sky. “You know the way back, Henry?”

“I do.” Henry said curtly, pulling himself up onto the side of the road.

“Good, since I don’t.”

Offering him a hand, Henry helped pull Dario out of the ditch, and the two began jogging along the road, following the tracks left behind the long-gone trucks.

Henry reached down to his leg, unslinging the M1928A1 and bringing it up to rest in his arms as he jogged. Dario did the same, taking his M1 Carbine out of its holder and cradling in it in his arms.

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>>33310198

“We’re going for a run? Awesome!”

“I can’t believe you had to fall like that, now we have to run all the way back, idiot.”

Henry smiled as his arms became noticeably lighter, the small form of a certain auburn-haired girl beginning to pull ahead of him. To his left, a slightly taller, older looking woman was also running, her same-coloured hair flowing out behind her in a tight braid.

“Come on, Henry!” Mary exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at him, her helmet bobbing up and down with each step. “We need to make it back to base before sundown!”

“We wouldn’t have to worry about that if these clowns actually knew how to land properly…” the other woman chided loudly, not even bothering to look back at Dario or Henry.

Mary shot her an angry glare. “Don’t be so bitter, Gloria! At least were getting exercise!”

Gloria huffed, not bothering to respond as she sped up, increasing her distance from them.

Looking over at Dario, Henry could see his face affixed in an annoyed glare, staring at the woman in front of him. “Fucking gun-spirits… Why did I have to get stuck with the cold one…” He mumbled to himself as his pack clattered on his back, his chest beginning to heave with effort.

A small hand took Henry’s own, causing him to look down at the girl clinging onto his side. Mary looked back up at him smiling, her deep brown eyes filled with joy as they ran. The small gun-spirit didn’t even come up to his shoulders, and looked more like she belonged in a kids cereal ad for a newspaper than in army fatigues.

“You did good today, Henry!” she said, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you!”

Henry chuckled at her praise. “If I did well, we wouldn’t be running here right now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t hurt your ankle like last time!”

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>>33310214

He just sighed, shaking his head as he upped his pace, dragging the girl along with him. “Let’s get a move on.” Henry said aloud to the small group as they passed beneath an outcrop of oak trees. “We don’t want Captain getting on our back for taking too long.”

“Yeah!”

“Good idea.”

“…Fucking bullshit…”

-------------------------------------

That's it for this one, let me know what you thought of it!

>>33310156
“Alright, before we go any farther I need two things: your guys’ names and what the fuck you plan on doing to my thumbs.”
>“I’m Joy,” said the Garand.
>“And my name is Tachibana,” the Arisaka said jovially.
“Joy and Tachibana… If I may ask, how did you two become so friendly? Didn’t you fight on opposite sides of the war?”
>“Well, we weren’t always like this. When John first picked me up off the battlefield, I don’t think I had ever felt such intense anger. My previous shooter had just dropped me and ran away, and I had no clue what happened to him, and here was the enemy claiming me as his prize,” Tachibana explained with brevity, a twinge of long seeded anger barely noticeable in her voice.
“Did you…” you trailed off, looking towards Joy.
>She shook her head.
>“Nope. I don’t recall shooting anyone who was running away during that battle.”
>“After the war, John brought us back to America. He kept us in his room for a while. I had known from the start that Joy had a geist, as I had seen her with him a few times, but I don’t think she ever knew I had one.”
>“I really didn’t.”
>“He shot me a couple times, but I’d hear him using Joy in the woods rather often. It made me long for use.”
>“Yeah, he used me the most. That said, one day he just… Well, I’m sure you know the story, Anon,” Joy said, eyes hinting slightly at a painful loss that must have still felt fresh.
>“After that, we were wrapped up into that same stuff you got us out from.”
>“Due to being so close together, I could actually hear Tachibana’s thoughts. That said, they were meaningless to me at the time, since I didn’t know Japanese.”
>“I knew a little bit of English, however, and before long, we began to teach each other our languages.”
>“And after language came culture. She told me all about Japan: The pretty yukatas, the pink trees, the gorgeous landscapes, the sake. She told me about everything.”

>>33310259
>“And Joy told me about America- about what was happening here at the time and what she knew of before going into storage. Speaking of, how’s the war going?”
“What war?”
>“The one in Vietnam.”
“That’s been over for… 35ish years.”
>“Oh… You guys won, right?” she asked, eyes glowing at the thought of American military might.
“I guess that depends on-“
>You were interrupted by a loud groan coming from across the kitchen.
>Rising from a slouch against the wall was your Vector, rubbing the back of her head.
“TOMMY!” Joy exclaimed, ejecting from her seat at breakneck speed.
>The stockless carbine didn’t even know what hit her before she was lifted right off the ground and received a faceful of manifest breastiny.
>Jamie squirmed as Joy hugged her even tighter, making noises of pleasure as she did.
>“Anon, you should have told Joy you have an M1928,” Tachibana smiled, resting her cheek on a fist.
“I don’t though.”
>Your words didn’t reach the Garand, who was effortlessly bringing the Vector back to the table.
>All the commotion caused your cat to jump off the Arisaka’s lap and move elsewhere.
>Setting her right on the table next to the box, the Garand put her hands on the Vector’s shoulders.
>“Tommy, you’ve shrunk! Did this man do something to your stock? And this outfit is so… odd,” she noted, examining the hoodie, scarf, and stripped knee socks.
>“Anon who-”
>The Vector was cut off to the Garand peeking up her skirt.
>“Hehehe… Tommy, you’ve-”
>Her legs shut together like a bear trap, face flushing red.
>“ANON WHO IS THIS WOMAN?”
>“Jamie, meet Joy. She’s the Garand I got yesterday. The Jap here is Tachibana- the Arisaka.”
>“Jamie? Huh… You looked so much like… Ah well, that doesn’t matter; it’s just nice to know Anon has a Thompson.”
>“I’m not a Thompson,” Jamie replied flatly.
>The Garand stumbled back a few feet, shocked at what at she just heard.

>>33310274
>“Th-th-then… what are you?”
>With a sigh and a flash, a .45 Vector pistol was lying on the table. Noticing it was still chambered with magazine in, you took the liberty of clearing her.
>The other two stared down at the alien technology.
>The Arisaka picked her up, trying to figure out how to aim and shoulder the gun.
>“Anon, what are these?” the Garand asked, rubbing her hand on the top of the gun, fingers bumping between the rails.
“Rails. You can mount things like scopes, lights, and grips on them.”
>“Why would you put a scope on an SMG?”
“Well, in practice you’d probably get a red dot sight.”
>“Pardon my asking, but what is that exactly?” the Jap asked.
“Think along the lines of a scope combined with an iron sight, I guess would be the best way to put it.”
>The two nodded, fascinated by this new gun.
>“Anon, how do I shoulder her?” Tachibana asked, still trying to figure out the rear section of the Vector.
“You don’t. She’s a pistol.”
>“Anon, that doesn’t look like a pistol,” Joy said with both a skeptical and concerned tone.
“Well, legally she is. I have to do some other stuff before I can get her a proper stock.”
>“Why would you need to do that?” The Jap inquired.
>With a flash she was now princess carrying Jamie, though she didn’t move with the sudden increase of weight.
>“Because of weird laws regarding rifles and lengths,” Jamie answered for you, all too familiar with not being an SBR yet.
>“But Anon just said you were a pistol.”
“It’s complicated… Actually, now that I think about it, you two haven’t seen a thing since you got packed away, and that was before the end of Vietnam. Shit…”
>“Is everything alright, Anon?”
“Well, I just realized you two have nearly 4 decades in history, technology, gun laws, and other such things to be brought up to speed with.”
>A loud, digestive groan echoed through the room, eyes turning to the Vector.

>>33310289
>“What? I’m hungry,” she replied with her usual apathy.
>Your two new rifles looked at each other, instantly smiling.
“Anon, are we going out to eat?”
“I took the day off, so sure. It’ll also give me some time to explain quite a few things. Anything you two want in particular?”
>“Yakizakana, miso shiru, nori…”
>“Flapjacks, sausage, grits, bacon…”
>The two talked over each other for about half a minute, each in their non-respective language about food from the other’s homeland, before smiling and leaning towards you.
>It wasn’t exactly intimidating, but both of them were taller and perceivably stronger than your manlet self, and you weren’t about to crush the hopes of either of the two joyous Amazons in front of you. The problem was you had to.
“Um… Well… We’re only going to be able to do one of those, and I’m not too sure there are any Japanese places around here that are going to serve breakfast, so…” you winced, knowing full well what you just said.
>The Garand was making puppy dog face at you, trying to get you to change your mind.
>Meanwhile the Arisaka was jumping up and down, the Vector holding onto her, trying not to hit the floor.
“Look, we can get Japanese food sometime this weekend, is that okay?” you asked, trying your best to console Joy.
>She nodded, sadness beginning to fade.
>THUD.
>“Fuck…” Jamie groaned as she sat on the floor.
>“Sorry…” Tachibana whispered, trying to conceal laughter.
>You were reaching your hand out to get the pistol off the ground when a flash of blonde and sharp pain in your right thumb distracted you.
>Once again, the Garand had struck, taking a good bite into your thumb before darting down the hallway, toward the door.
>The Arisaka winked and followed her.
>You sighed as you got Jamie up from the ground.
>“Anon, things just got a lot livelier around here, didn’t they?”
“I think so,” you said with a little worry as you heard the door open

>>33310312
And that's all I got for tonight.
Apologies to >>33310135 for interrupting his train.

As always, I'd love to hear what you guys have to say.

>>33310330
Don't worry about it, I don't mind. Good update though, I liked it a lot! I'm excited for all the culture-shock shenanigans in the future.

>>33310312
good stuff

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>>33309762
You are correct the backplate looks like an m2 but that thing is too short to be an m2 also the barrel shroud is not anything like an m2 way too narrow. Also remember this was taken way after ww2 by then a lot of mods had been made specially with those guns since they have been used on anything from tanks to aircraft and boats plus whatever shithole war they get thrown in, I pretty sure there were a few of them m1919 being used in Brazil by the police and the narcos.

>>33310653
>that thing is too short to be an m2
the receiver is way too long to be an M1919

>>33310653
It's an M3

>>33310863
Great bait

>>33310863
which is a variant of M2

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>>33310773
That's the original picture now take a close look at the over all length the thing is at the most the size of an l1a1 and actual m2 with a barrel is about the about the length of an m107 also I don't know how strong you are but I can tell you that an m2 with a barrel is a heavy ass piece of equipment and even if it's for a picture it would be hard to hold it like in pic related

>>33310897
different anon, go ahead and google AN/M3

>>33310951
Look at how his hand is quite a bit smaller than the ejection port.
Thing is also about 2-3 feet longer than a 1919.

>>33310863
>>33310897
Anon I gotta apologize about that I thought you were referring to the m2 on the vehicle not the original post muh bad

>>33310951
>now take a close look at the over all length the thing is at the most the size of an l1a1 and actual m2 with a barrel is about the about the length of an m107
the picture cuts off God knows how much of the barrel, it's the receiver we need to look at, take a look at this picture of M1919, look at the proportions of the receiver, now take a look at the proportions of M2, compare the two to the IRA -pic, is that closer to an M2 or M1919 receiver? It seems to be an M3, a variant of the standard M2 used on aircraft, the barrel shroud on an M3 matches the IRA -pic

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>>33311025
fsck forgot the pic

>>33310312
>thumbstruck
Anon is gonna learn to knifehand, it's the only way to deal with a thumb biter like Garand.

>>33311066
>knifehanding a mischievous raifu
do not bully!

>>33311077
Is not bullying, is hiding thumb.

Also, primes your hand for ass slaps, boob cups, midriff tickles...almost anything, really.

>>33308544
the dubs had other plans for me. the cnc keeps making shit threads.

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>>33311118

>>33311346
I NEED MY FIX GOD DAMN IT

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Gentlemen, I have a request. And i'm not happy that I have to resort to this.

Anyone who's read the one story I wrote knows that I don't follow the traditional method of giving the guns proper names, opting just to call them by their make and model.

I now feel like that was a mistake. So, because I like you guys (and I'm a lazy cunt), how about you guys help me pick out the names of my guns in-story, k?

Guns in need of names:

Howa 1500
Browning Hi-Power (Belgium police surplus)
Springfield M1A
DIY AR-15
Smith and Wesson 5906 (police trade-in)

>tl;dr: I'm a lazy shit who'll make /wfg/ do all the work.

Thanks in advance anons! :^)

>>33312109
In all seriousness. The name and name meanings databases are a huge help.

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>>33312172
Yeah, but where's the fun in that? I kinda wanna see what you guys could come up with.

>>33312109
>Howa 1500
Holly or Hope.
>Browning Hi-Power (belgian)
Beth, Bess or Bernadette.
>Springfield M1A
What is it with this general and Springfield guns? Sally, Sage, or Stephanie.
>DIY AR15
How DIY are we talking? An 80% turned full lower? Plastic mould pour? Metal or plastic? I NEED DETAILS, MAN. Possibility of physical disabilities are endless.
oh, uh...Alice, Abigail, Rachael, Roslyn.
>S&W 5906 (police)
NiggerWhacker.
Or, uh...Sarah, Slave, Wendy, Wanda.

>>33312501
Oh, forgot to mention.

*all names provided are subject to interpretation, spelling variance, and whimsy of the reader, be they the intended recipient, poster of the question, or not.

>>33312002
awwwww

Chapter 5: Somewhere In Time.
>July 29, 2168
>John thought to his last week as he approached the bench. How he'd gotten into this mess was clear enough, a battered Major across the room behind a guard testifying that an otherwise quiet Sergeant had drunkenly beat him senseless after "a few" remarks about his silence. In truth, John was drunk and the Major, clearly in the wrong place followed up on a series of comments stretching over months regarding many things, what they were, even as he sat in the court room weren't important, not to John, the Major, and almost certainly not to the panel presiding over the court marshal or even to Jennifer, his issued M-20. "Oh well." he thought. she wouldn't miss him.
>"Sergeant Herman, stand." John stood as he awaited the punishment handed down. "Sergeant Herman, given your otherwise exemplary service record and the psychological profile made available to this panel, I would like to extend you a choice if no one on the panel objects."
>The head of the panel looked to his peers and met silence. "A choice of punishment. You can lose ten years in a military prison, or you can lose twenty, aging only ten in a nano suit. I'll leave the decision of which is worse to you. With that, I'd like to adjourn this court marshal for ten minutes while the panel deliberates any objections. think it over in that time, Sergeant."
>With that, the court adjourned, John walking out to mull the idea over as though somehow the world was such a parody that prison might be better than the alternative.
>As he thought about it, he felt an elbow in his side prompting him to look to the angry face of Jenny, as always, angry at him.
"What now?!"
>"Shut up. What are you doing? I've pulled you out of so much shit and now you go and pull this."
"I'm stuck between prison and the twenty-fifth and eighty-eighth." John answered bitterly at the rifle.
>"So... That's it?"
"Yeah. You can finally be rid of me." John answered

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>>33312501
We'll shit, let's see...
>Howa
Holly's tempting but story-wise I pretty much set it as 'fresh off the boat' from Japan. I've been considering a native name.
>Browning- Beth
>Springfield - Sally
Tempting names.
>AR-15
It's actually a pre-made Mega Arms lower and PSA upper in metal. Crippled guns is not in the cards however. Nice try though.
>5906 - ...
...Sarah. Kinda like the sound of it.

Thanks. I might actually use a few of these.

>>33312238
Lazy git

>>33312577
Allison for your AR15.

>>33312577
>Howa
Haru
>Browning HP
sounds like she's Linda
>Springfield
Elizabeth
>AR
Maria
>Smith&Wesson
Rachel

>>33312553
>"B-But-"
"NO. Don't you fucking try that. You never had any affection for me, don't you fucking start now."
>"I... I took you for granted. I didn't know you'd do some stupid shit like this."
"Granted. I WAS granted. But now that you don't get me anymore, the next guy gets to put up with your shit. Until he does some shit and then you start to feel for him too."
>John knew he was wrenching her inside, but he didn't care. Jenny had been a bitch to him for years, even up to that morning. If he did anything, it was wrong according to her, and she wouldn't hesitate to tell him about it.
>A heavy sigh escaped John's lungs as he watched the 5'11" woman's face contort with the pain of having finally been appraised by all who's appraisal might matter as worthless.
"I guess I'll go for the nano suit."
>"D-Do you really hate me that much?"
"I don't hate you Jenny. In fact, you're like family. But I'm not going to be nice to you anymore. I'm going to be honest. You need to hear it, so here it is. You're a psychotic hyper judgemental bitch who's given me little but grief in the two years we've worked together, and hasn't once voiced any opinion on me or anything I do that wasn't spite or disapproval. You're just the worst, and now that some of your unending stream of negativity and criticism is directed back at you, you cry like you yourself haven't said all these things to me countless times in the last two years."
>"B-But, those were different!"
"HOW?" John demanded as he watched her clasp onto him, crying into his chest
>No response came. for two minutes she merely held onto him meekly. She'd get no sympathy from him. All she did was point out his negative qualities and the meaninglessness of his finer qualities for two years.
>"So that's it? You're just leaving me?"
"What choice do I have? Prison, and we're separate forever, I get out and get cast out, nano suit and they don't allow geists, owing to high chance of getting stuck on a planet in nowhere forever."

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>>33312109
Tbh, I'm not that much a fan of naming guns after first letter to give a name. I did it a little, but but eh...

What you have to remember is that it's a gun, so te name doesn't have to be that good. All russian non-AT guns in that story are named after ships (Gnevny and Varyag).

Since you have a Japanese one to play with, I'd personally find a somewhat obscure piece of hardware. I mean, who cares what it actually is ad long as it sounds good. Okay, don't call it "Micra" but you get the point. It just has to sound okay

>pic related is another bad example, the Mirage Balzac

>>33312997
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zJWuK8e4ECA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HWNkAdSITw

>"So I guess that's it then. I don't know what to say..."
"There's nothing more to say. Maybe when we next meet I'll be out of it. Or maybe they'll send you to me when we run out of M-34's, or get embedded in a company of space marines."
>"The though of you with some giant M-34 sized whore. I hope you like her."
"No geists for troops intended to go off world. Remember? Marooned on a planet in the middle of nowhere alone forever would suck. Bad enough if a troop craft crashes with no survivors. Worse if the geists are the only ones to survive and don't rate anything approaching a rescue."
>"Right. no geists. But what about me?"
"You'll be reissued, maybe treat the next guy like you like him. At least keep the relationship professional instead of venomous. I'd like to talk more but... our time is up."
>John patted Jenny on the back and walked back into the courtroom as she watched with tears in her eyes.
>"Have you reached your decision?"
"Yes, sir. I've decided on the nano suit."
>"Good choice. You're going to the twenty-fifth of the eighty-eighth where you will be stationed at earth defense sector five."
>A week later, John was escorting Jenny to the armory, and in another month he'd be in sector five talking to an administrator only known as "Ghost"

That's all for tonight... or... five in the morning.
I spent A LOT of time listening to Ghostler intros.

I'm still alive... work has me drained to the point I fall asleep in my chair. I'll see if I can work on the story tonight

updates to bins trough the day

>>33312997
There is a difference between whose and who's. It's literally as big a difference as your and you're.

>>33313307
In that case, take my (You)

I'll have part of the svd story ready today

>>33314376
Fuck yeah, how long has it been since you wrote the last part?

there aren't enough feels in this thread!

>"It happened so suddenly", you think as you hold your shooter's hand, this is it, in a moment you will be separated, perhaps forever.
>You think back to the morning as your vision goes blurry because of the tears and the blood. Whose blood is it anyway?
>Just few hours ago the two of you were fighting, and now you'll never be able to make up.
>You want to scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. He looks you in the eyes as he, too, is attempting to say something.
>The flashback of his helmet flying off & him falling keeps looping in your head, how many seconds have passed? Has it even been a whole second yet?
>You are scared, you wonder if he's scared as well?
>"It's allright, it's nothing serious!" you want to assure him that everything will be fine, even though you both know it to be a lie, but you still can't make a sound.
>Blood spurts out of his side as pieces of metal tear through his flak vest.
>Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't the two of you live in peace?

>>33315107

>You want to shout her name, to embrace her one last time, soon you won't be able to.
>"I hope someone takes out that sniper quickly" you think as you struggle to move.
>"Sniper *and* a mortar round, only seconds apart", you think.
>"It really is hard being popular", you finish your thought and try to laugh, instead you manage only to cough.
>Shit, that shrapnel must have gotten your lung, it's hard to breathe.
>That, or the vest and your broken ribs are the cause, perhaps all three.
>Someone's calling for medic, there might be use for one here as well, someone from the team must be still alive.
>You look her in the eyes as you start to drift away. Damn she's beautiful, even when covered in blood.
>"I hope there's an afterlife where we can be reunited once more..."

>>33315118

>You wake up in a hospital bed, you spring up and start scanning the room, hoping to see her by your side.
>"Whoah! Take it easy! Your surgery might have been a success, but if you move like that you are going to need another one!"
>It's your team leader, covered in bandages, there's no sign of her.
>"...What happened?" You ask, hoping it was just a dream.
>"You were shot, the bullet grazed your head and you collapsed, your rifle started giving you first aid when a mortar round fell in and exploded less than a meter behind her."
>You go numb as the reality sinks in. It wasn't a dream after all.
>She really did take the full blast, pieces of her rifle form she was holding at the time did get torn away by the blast & propelled into your body.
>"Doctors say there's a piece of her dust cover embedded next to your spine, they can't remove it safely." your team leader adds.
>"So, a piece of her will always remain with me..." you say as you process what has happened.
>"She would kick your ass for making such a lame joke, regardless of your condition" your team leader says.
>"I really wish she could..."

I'll work tonight, i promise

>>33315131
That was feels alright...

>>33315204
on that note:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waIoxGmqCcs

>>33313767
Delicious (you), thank you. You for the you god

Putting some random poetry from my highschool days, i made it when i am very bored.

It was cold.
Hands we're numbing.
Feet became wet, holes in my boots.
Winds become eerie, so as the skies.
Body demanded warmth.
Day Dreaming Hawaii.
Reality. I'm at Belgium.
When do i get warm break?
When do i get hot food?
Will Krauts come?
Never for sure.
Gripping my rifle.
Eyes Forward.
Remain Vigilant.
As day and night.
Will be cold again.

>>33315847
i like it

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>>33314376
Bumpidy bump muh dude
> tfw you will never be snowed in with cute svd

>>33314388
A few months or so, dunno but I've just been very busy

>>33316221
Hype!

>>33313753
true, but make me stay up to five in the morning and see if I give a fuck.

>>33316488
I won't "make" you do a goddamn thing.

I will, however, point out shit often enough that you will hopefully be pissed off enough at yourself for stupid shit like that and your pride as a writer takes over and you fix it.

>>33315131
I remember this story. Specifically that joke at the end.

Is there more coming soon?

>>33315847
Don't make me post feels from my allpoetry account

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>>33316690
>Fix it.
Yeah. Probably. When I've revising it after I add it to the story.

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>>33316756
>I've revising
Ummmm

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>>33316272

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>>33316784
god DAMN! it's like I'm slowly losing the english language... quickly now that I think of it.

>>33316718
how should I put it...there has been some speculation about whether or not the short you are referring to is a link between "Riikka" and another story of mine where Anon has moved to USA and happens to buy the same rifle his great-grandfather was carrying when he died in 1941, I haven't confirmed nor denied the theory as of yet, though I have said that all three exist in the same universe.

>>33316859
Tease

>>33316822
Get some sleep, man. 10 minutes of powernap, no more.

>>33316950
I think the caffeine fixed it. Or I need to stop listening to true capitalist "cans.wav" radio while I type this shit up. Actually, it seems the original use of "who's" criticized was correct. "Who's" is a contraction of "who has" right?

How would a gun feel if she was finally purchased in an online auction after years of sitting in storage, and then she got to her new owner and was told that he didn't like her and that she was a bad gun, and put in the back corner of a closet for the foreseeable future?


That's what's happening in real life right now.

pico soon

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>>33318033
please gib.

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fisrt round of updates
new guys on the sticky
http://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek

ATannie is up to date
http://pastebin.com/XbWjWNQM

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pico now

>Both of you walk out of the bathroom to the kitchen, to responsibly and cleanly enjoy some ice cream.
>You've made a fatal error though. Leaving the ice cream out for that long has rendered it a gooey soup of colors.
>Pico struggles to look over the counter so you hoist her up by her shoulders and sit her on a bar stool.
"Well, Anon, we have straws, yes?" She asks
>You nod, catching on to her plan. You open a draw and pull out a straw. You hand it to her and warn her.
>"Don't over indulge yourself Pico, alright?"
>Pico nods excitedly, and you know your message didn't go through. You shrug, leaving her to her devices.
>You take a seat on the couch and prop your feet up. Looking through the window you see the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
>You grab the remote and turn on the TV, watching Law & Order: SVU, the best TV series known to man.
>You're halfway through the episode before something is tugging on your arm. You turn your head, and Pico is standing holding her stomach.
>"Feeling sick, huh?" You say with a little more smug attitude that you intended.
>Pico doesn't speak but nods her head and mumbles an 'mhm'. You frown and gently pick her up and put her next to you on the couch.
>You wrap your arm around her and hold her close to you as you unpause the TV. You check on Pico every once in a while to make sure she's OK.
>One of the times she's closed her eyes and is softly snoring, using your body for support. You look at the time. It's almost 10 o'clock, you have work tomorrow.
>Well, work doesn't start until 9, so you can probably get some more sleep in then, yeah. You smile warmly as you close your eyes, falling asleep.

>>33316972
It can. Using THAT, let us revisit:
>contort with the pain of having finally been appraised by all who has appraisal might matter as worthless
If you want this to work, your sentence structure is fucked. I personally think it was intended as possessive, "thing belonging to 'who'", which is whose.
>contort with the pain of having finally been appraised by all whose appraisal might matter as worthless

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>>33317639

>>33319070
clearly I was looking at the wrong instance of "who's" when I wrote that post.Thanks for pointing that out, friendo.

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Hey guys, I'm kinda still around. Been busy playing Wildlands (which is pretty fun, I do hope they add more gear though) and working. I also had ordered a daki which, I fucked up with so I've been helping out around the auction to scrape up some more cash. Overall, not dead and will hopefully be working on my stories again.

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>>33317639

Stupid question: is using an already established fictional universe to tell a war story /k/ enough? Like, Halo or Star Wars, where it's more of the setting, and keeps itself detached from the larger picture of their respective franchises. I know that runs the risk of being too fanfictiony, but I thought I'd ask anyways.

>>33319766
We have anons that are doing that, and they've been pretty good.

>>33319766
oh yeah, we love stories about war
all kinds of war
but try to make it readable for people who know little about the lore

>>33319165
General rule: when dealing with homonyms, the apostrophe means a contraction.

Mind you, it is always better to write out the words and read again.

>>33308049
>>33308076

Update as promised

“I know, I know, just complaining I guess.” Pax said as she leaned back in her chair. “Goddamn I can’t wait to get out.”

“How long have you been in?” Nike inquired

“3 Years soon” Pax replied

“You’ve been in 3 years and you’re only a PV2?” Nike asked

“Yeah got busted down a few times” Pax admitted as she laughed somewhat nervously. “I’m hoping this most recent incident won’t screw me over even more”

“Hopefully” Nike said, “You seemed to have gotten smoked pretty hard for it”

“Oh don’t remind me.” Pax groaned. “Getting smoked in this place is fucking awful. The sand get’s everywhere and it’s too damn hot”

Pax sighed exhaustedly and sank deep into her chair.

“So what about you Corporal? How was your day?” Pax asked.

“Well, aside from being late to my team meeting, pretty uneventful I guess” Nike replied.

“Ah, you caught hell for being late?” Pax guessed, perking up in interest from her previously exhausted state.

“No my LT was pretty relaxed about it actually” Nike said “It’s odd everything I’ve been in so far if you were late people took it pretty hard. Odd to have a guy as understanding at that.”

“It’s because you’re a boot” Pax chortled smugly. Nike scowled somewhat at the remark. “But for real though” Pax added “From what happened with the showers it delayed us all by quite a bit, while some officers are definitely chill, it’s real rare to have a commander who doesn’t give a fuck being that late.”

>>33320473
“He did care, but…I don’t know.” Nike said her brow furrowed “He even calmed me down a bit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah he came over and talked to me.” Nike explained. “You know how in some meeting rooms for both us and regular humans have those balconies right?”

“Yeah the joint meeting buildings, I’ve built a lot of them” Pax replied. “Did he come over to your side?”

“Yeah asked to be picked up and put on the table and everything,” Nike added. Pax whistled in response. “Damn first time I’ve ever heard of that.”

“Yeah, picking him up was really…I don’t know”

“You felt like you were gonna break him right? Like the slightest move and you could hurt him.” Pax inquired

“Yeah actually, how’d you-“

“I’ve done it quite a few times.” Pax explained “First time was nerve wracking as all hell. I was terrified about dropping the guy, but too tight and I’d kill him. They’re just so fragile.”

“Yeah” Nike said as she looked at her hand “Fragile”

“Damn one thing I’ve always worried about would be stepping on somebody” Pax added “Like I bet you have to worry about that a- Hey are you okay?”

Nike had suddenly frozen. She remembered moving rapidly, her foot coming mere inches from the Lieutenant.

Bones crushing

Organs bursting

A final, pitiful scream

“Hey, Hey Corporal, HEY”

Nike turned to see Pax standing over her. “Are you alright?” Pax asked. You look terrified.”

Nike blinked trying to get her bearings and garner a response. As she did, a few tears rolled down her face and splashed to the ground.


And with that chapter four has come to a close.

As always feedback is greatly appreciated.

Chapter Five is on it's way soon (my goal is to have it in it's entirety put out this week).

>>33320298
I know english, it's my native tongue... just don't type it too well some times.

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>>33316272

>it's dark
>"anoooooon..."
>fuck man, it's too early to get up
>"get up cyka, I'm making breakfast"
"It's too... Early"
>"fine, have it your way"
>you feel all of your breath disappear from your lungs as a weight slams onto your stomach
>FUCKFUCKFUCK NO AIR
>your eyes flick open as you lurch up, gasping for breath
>as you sit in bed struggling for breath, you look down to see the source of your suffering
>a mass of fluffy blonde hair and a red hoodie
"God damnit... Why do you do this"
>she turns onto her back to look up at you
>"I told you to get up..."
>fair enough
"Alright... So what was this about breakfast ?"
>"you'll like it, trust me"
"Why are you always so vague ?"
>"why aren't you ?"
"Anyway. How are you going to make anything if you're laying on top of me"
>she pauses for a second then looks back at you
>"right... Be downstairs soon"
>after that she hopped off the bed and practically skipped out of the room

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>>33320666
>that hoodie she had on went about halfway down her thigh
>was she actually wearing anything else?
>the idea of those long pale legs, only covered by some fabric...
>anon stop. That's lewd
>you slowly shamble out of bed and onto your feet, shuffling into the shower
>you toss your shirts into the hamper as you pad into the bathroom, turning on the shower
>the water itself is cold as fuck, but you probably need it
(Imagine "you make me crazy" by streets if you can, playing in the background)
>it's been two months since you bought your svd
>apparently nobody clued you in that they're well... People
>there were a few awkward moments, you may have left her out in a snow storm
>things were good though
>she was definitely NOT appreciative of the jokes about her looking like a psl though
>by the time you finish your thoughts, you're out of the shower and dressed
>now you get to enjoy a breakfast you didn't have to make yourself


If any of you do fan art, I'm making a moochers request of some svd

>>33320694
>you grab a grey t-shirt from your dresser and head down stairs, putting it on on the way down the stairs
>once you get down, you peek into the kitchen
>she's standing in front of the stove, focusing intently on something in the pan in front of her.
>despite this, her tail swishes back and forth
>unf
>you walk into the kitchen to see what's happening
"Hey there"
>she turns toward you
>"you're up! Alright, you're going to love this. I made...-"
>you decide to interrupt her before she spoils anything
"I'll let you finish, but I've got a question."
>she looks at you deflatedly
"Since when do you cook? Don't you remember the microwave incident ?"
>"oh stop that, you only set a microwave on fire once!"
"Really though. I've never seen you actually cooking, you're always doing other things"
>she diverts her attention from the stove again to speak
>"I might be a rifle, that doesn't mean I'm not still feminine you jerk. What kind of girl can't cook?"
"My ex girlfriend"
>"what?"
>that was out loud
"What ?"
>"never mind, I don't even want to know"
>that's good
>fuck she was crazy

>>33320706
>"so as I was saying, I made some pancakes using condensed milk and a few other ingredients I think you'll like"
>that sounds fairly nice actually
"What did I do to deserve you ?"
>"dunno, had a few hundred dollars and some manners...-"
"Oh don't flatter me"
>"among other things"
>she turns back to the stove and carries on, leaving you to... existing. Standing there like an idiot
>she catches on fast
>turning her head, she asks you
>"how about instead of playing the statue game you set the table, please ?"
"Don't have to tell me twice"
>with that you set to work
>plates, cups, all the fun stuff was out by the time your rifle was done cooking


>a few minutes later, both of you were eating some glorious pancakes
>then it occurs to you
>she never actually told you her name
>you asked but she never really answered...
>this is a problem
>she looks up at you from her plate curious
>"what's with the face you're making ? Do you not like the pancakes ?"
>quite the opposite
"They're great, but there's something you never actually told me..."
>"umm... alright ? What was it ?"
"Your name"
>she thinks back a moment before looking like a kid who just aced a math test
>"feel free to call me Anya"
>Anya... that's nice...
"Alright Anya... what do you want to do today ?"

>>33320741
>she looks at you
>then the pancakes in front of her
>then back at you before speaking
>"if I knew the answer we'd already be doing it"
"That's... an answer I guess"
>"yep!"
>Anya goes back to eating her pancakes
>this is going to be a boring .
>after a good ten minutes, the food and dishes are done
>"English is weird"
>what ?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
>she looks at you from where she stands in the kitchen
>"i mean, having to physically examine the language, you notice weird stuff"
"Oh do go on, but can we at least talk on the couch or something ?"
>"yeah yeah, hurry up"
>you head to the couch with her closely behind you.
>once you're on the couch, she positions herself so that her head is in your lap, feet dangling off the armrest"
>"alright, so..."
"So ?"
>" you drive on parkways, but park on driveways. Explain."
>why is this conversation happening
"I didn't make the language, don't know what to tell you."
>"what's the point of subjectives too ? If someone can't understand what's going on off of circumstance then why are they involved? You should just learn Russian, it would be easier"
"I'd love to, but the writing system is borderline autistic"
>she looks over at you angrily
>"I... well... at least it isn't kanji"
>this is true

>>33320875
>you look down at her, rubbing her ear like she was a pet before replying
"Yeah... fuck kanji. So anyway, what's bringing on this whole Russian language thing ?"
>"I don't know... don't you think it would be nice to visit Russia ? Imagine St. Petersburg in the winter !"
>fuck... she want to do vacations
>you don't make nearly enough money for that
"I don't know how to tell you this...-"
>she interrupts
>"you're afraid of actual Russian people? Or is it something else that worries you ?"
"I don't make the money to fund something like that."
>she shuts her eyes while exhaling a deep breath for a moment before looking right at you
>"I have an idea to fund a vacation"
>oh boy
"Please do tell"
>"you'd say I know English well, right?"
"Better than most blacks at least"
>"so, I could do English lessons for people around here and some of the novorussians for a bit of extra money"
>eh fuck it
"I don't see why not, go for it"
>she starts squeezing your neck tight as she pulls you down and hugs you
>"thank you! I really want to be able to see home with you !"
"Well I'm glad, with a second income we could do some neat things"
>"like what ?"

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>>33308082
Pretty good. Surprised the road pirates don't use any cars. They seem a bit more sturdy then the bikes.

>>33308134
Daww. Man, am I glad that Ellie won that drawing. Really cool to see a version of Hickok in a Geist world. Really glad that he's still a very gentle, considerate man, until it comes to those devilish two litres. Maybe, though, Anna's extreme desire to end Sophie stems from her intense feelings for Anon.

>>33308855
Aw man. This is adorable supreme with extra cute. I knew she would get Neapolitan, but some of me thought it'd be an older style four color or a tricolore of the Italian flag. Still, the eating in the car was cute enough to more than make up for it. Please, let this story remain übercute.

>>33309594
Exactly the picture I was thinking of last thread.

>>33310229
I like it. The NCO is a fuckwad, but that's pretty similar to my experiences. It's good that even soldiers who get separated from their units get at least rudimentary psychology treatment in the form of weapon spirits.

>>33310330
I liked this update. It was really nice. Interesting how they confused Jamie for a Thompson. Shows a bit about how the geists appear to everyone without just coming out and saying it. Pretty good use of show, don't tell.

>>33313233
Damn, that shit blows. Sucks for Johnny, but at least a tsun tsun bitch gets some real talking to.

>>33315131
I never asked for this feel...

>>33315847
Nor this one...

>>33319012
Ha! That's nice. Give her a peppermint. They help with stomach aches.

>>33320493
Well that was an u expected feel at the end. PTSD is a hell of a drug. Hope Nike will be ok. Glad to see this story coming back.

>>33320896
More SVD? Are we fucking blessed or what? I'm glad to see the return of the fluffy tail. Wouldn't it be a bit hard to hold English classes that close to a warzone, though?

>>33321328
Everyone needs teachers anon, and besides. It's not like they're part of house to house shit, theyre just near the situation
"Like me taking you to Petersburg"
>"oh yeah"
>she promptly gets her head off of your lap and rolls off the couch, heading upstairs
"Where are you going"
>"making advertisements, stupid"
>fair enough
"Alright then, you do you"
>things passed rather neatly
>In a few days, Anya had compiled a nice list of resources and appointments
>supposedly she planned on using you as an aptitude test for students, so that's neat
>after receiving a few phone calls in Russian you started tossing the phone at Anya whenever it was an unknown number
>it is now Friday night, about 6:30
>the first appointment or lesson was today with some guy named vadim
>you hear a knock on the door and go to answer it, but Anya rushes past you
>"it's for me, just focus on whatever you were doing!"
>you weren't doing anything
>she answers the door and quickly starts speaking to the guy, ushering him to the kitchen table
>you decided to sit down and read a book for once, until she decided to call you over

>>33319012
damn it, now I want an adorable pistol -geist...

>>33313233
>By 2071 John had become a more gregarious and friendly person, having spent a year in and another out of the nano suit, currently into his second year in the suit. He truly felt that he'd regained a lost sense of youth, having no sleep or need of it or any other of the plethora of creature comforts that occurred outside the nano suit. Really, the only thing a nano soldier could do was work, talk to others, take up a craft hobby, which of course would be prohibitive since nano soldiers spent a great deal of their total time occupied in some deployment where these hobbies and crafts would be inaccessible.
>Jack had stopped being John the mentally aged and cynical man devoid of youth and joviality, and began being Jack, the young nano soldier of twenty-five who acted like he was 19, save for his relatively shy demeanor of that age, which had since disappeared, replaced first by his bitterness at living with Jenny in his arms, pissing on the embers of his happiness every step of the way until he was twenty-two.
>"These nano suits are the most mixed blessing I've ever worn." Said Fireball, a new addition to the unit.
"You must be new here. What's this? Fifth day?"
>"Yeah. Something like that. How did I get here?"
"Committed a crime, made the wrong choice when the asked which punishment you'd prefer?"
>"Yeah... Something like that. I guess I was stealing a car and they sent me here. How did you get here?"
"I was in the first of the ninth, got into it with a Major, kicked his ass, so he pressed charges even though he asked for it. I used to have the whole sad smile going too."
>"HOW CAN YOU SEE THAT?"
"I can't. I can read your voice and judge by your inflection that you're reminiscing about better times by the stresses in it."
>"What do you do for entertainment when you have one of these things?"
"Take up arts and crafts or what ever. But you generally won't have time for any of that except for drawing. There's group gatherings. No sleep, you see."

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>>33320493
SHE'S BACK! Yes!

So, I've started lurking writefag threads for the first time since they started the general, and fuck.

The feels, and the teeth numbing sweetness. I find myself reading this shit before I go to bed to get any business related shit out of my head.

Thank you anons, specifically construct for woods walk Wednesdays.
That shit made my week.

"Friends"

Another day, another still night,
The bar was scant - a standard sight.
At the counter a lone man sat under flickering light.

Through an amber filled glass he looked,
With sad eyes and with a voice that shook,
"Another please - for the ones the war took"

The barkeep nodded, as he understood,
He poured another glass without a word,
Like any night he'd drink alone, the lone man would.

It had been years now since this started,
After work, he drank for the departed.

To his close friends - their hopes and dreams he knew,
That the ones that eventually came home were so few.

But no matter how many nights slipped by,
Or the sleepless nights that he'd cry,
He knew that he would never find the why.

So alone in the bar he sat and drank,
As day by day, his heart only sank.

>>33321909
>2071... LITERALLY WRONG CENTURY!!! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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Not really too /wfg/ related, but you guys are my bros on here, so another quick update as of late.

>>33321909
>"What's there to do, assuming that you even CAN do arts and crafts in these things?"
"Well, to start with, the suits have great dexterity, you can carry a porcelain teacup across a battlefield in one of these without breaking it. Some people take up old fashioned machining, like they used to do two-hundred years ago, some take up painting or drawing, they can be really good at it. Sit around in circles painting happy clouds and such."
>"What do you do?"
"Talk to people, read, reminisce about times and folks gone by, turn my own pens."
>"Folks gone by? Suppose I can relate."
"Nothing quite like having people around and then suddenly having no one. Every now and again I wonder if my family would recognize me."
>"Don't think my own dear ma would recognize me. Girlfriend left me when she found out what I did."
"Every now and then, I think of my old rifle."
>"Oh yeah, you're in from prior. Did you love her? Was she hot?...Good in bed?"
"No. She was like family, her name was Jenny. All the way to the morning of my court marshal she treated me with scorn and contempt. Everything I did was wrong in her eyes, but... Truthfully, you only see things in clarity after they've passed. I took it to heart. Took it too hard. It wasn't scorn, really. We loved each other in our way. Just... not a joyful way. It wasn't until the day of the court marshal I saw even the slightest act of attachment from her. I miss her now and again, but... I don't think she'd recognize me being happy. I know she wouldn't let that happiness last. You?"
>"Occasionally I think of Rachel. Pretty brunette, nicest girl you ever saw. I don't know why I didn't marry the girl. She couldn't stand to see me unhappy. I dumped her and went after a bitchy tramp named Kelsey. She was a typical trust fund baby, always talked about how we should sympathize with the Ic'rah and how oppressed and yada yada yada she was. But... A workin' man's gotta be a workin' man. Play the hand you're dealt, ya know."
"Yeah.."

>>33310229
This is some good shit. Keep up the good work anon.

>>33308014
can write faggotry include draw faggotry?

>>33323858
It often does

>>33323895
i am thumbnailing a comic right now. does /k/ want to critique it, maybe help with where im stuck?

I haven't been in this general or even really on /k/ for a bunch of months now. What's new guys?

>>33321328
>All hail reply Anon
Thanks! Happy to see that you enjoyed the short. We will get more insight to Anon and Anna’s relationship as the flashback progresses, don't worry!

>>33322501
Damn... that means a lot. It's always nice to see the lurkers comment.
>made my week
I can say the same, I really appreciate it man...

>>33324568
And of course I forgot my name.

>>33308014
Can we just call it writing general?

I am not sure how I feel about the fag language

>>33324659
b-but

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>>33324659
Did you forget where you are?

>>33324659
Welcome to/k/, now git out

>>33324659
3/10 low quality bait

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>>33324836
i don't think that is bait desu

also, still working, update soon-ish

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>>33324659
are you the guy that keeps asking pastebin because i put "fag" on the tittle?

>>33324659
welcome to /k/ now get the fuck out

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second batch of updates will drop during the day

>the anon that is doing the cyber cop story and say he would bin it, give link plox

>updates take longer due hip pains
>cant complain

>>33325560
>hip pains

Polybus, are you very old?

>>33323913
Yass. Post it.

>>33325589
kek, nah check the image

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>>33325633
oh. my girl is more gentle with me

>>33323913
POST. IT.

>>33324853
I found a thread for you. You have to skip to middle a bit, though.
>>33294571

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>>33325646
6'4 chicks are dam good

>pic awfully related she has a good feet over me

>>33325775
>6'4 girl

have you found Annie by any chance?

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>>33325775
>dem hips
>dat waist
>her hair
>demure
>mfw

>>33325775
Fucking damn it, Poly. Only seeing green right now.

>>33325775
God damn Poly, color me jealous as fuck.

>>33321618
Please sir, may I have some more?

>>33325775
>6'0" vs 5'11".jpg

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>>33325603
>>33325657
OK. So here is what i have so far with the script, but Ive run into a problem in the last thumbnail and maybe you guys can help me. For what it's worth, this is a story based on the online game planetside. it is a game devoid of any actual characters. uniquely, every action in the game is explained lore wise. for example, you can respawn because technology called 'nanites' allows everyone who dies to be reborn and reconstructed, over and over again. The result is war between three empires, stranded from a wormhole on an alien planet, that has lasted hundreds of years with no end in sight. Imagine Generation Kill meets edge of tomorrow

INT. SUNDERER -- DAY
Soldiers of the New Conglomerate are cramped in the back of a their armored personel carrier, looking from eager to bored to jazzed, but one of them looks nervous. JOHN MATHEWS tries to look calm as they drive toward battle, but his quietness betrays him

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
you've never died before, have you?

MATHEWS
how did you...

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
trust me. I can tell. We all can tell.

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>>33326113
LATINO NC SOLDIER
You never kill anybody either?

>Everyone in the sundy is staring at him with devious eyes

MATHEWS
Nuh-uh

LATINO NC SOLDIER
then what are you good for, anyway

CAUCASIAN NC soldier #2
I bet you ten certs he makes it fifteen minutes

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
Have a little faith, man; twenty cert hours says he makes it thirty

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>>33326113
Body language of the nervous one isn't as nervous as it should be.

Legs splayed, chest erect, (third panel now) left vulnerable underbelly open.

If he's really nervous, body language makes him cover himself, make himself smaller. Last panel you see him should be surprise.

>>33326134
This is now a betting game where the wager is made known to a new guy. Newbie has no reason to try for either bet, other than to prove his own worth. If you want to, use this chart for reference (if it's the right one, I should have selected Body Language Indicator)

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>>33326134
>SFX: TINK! TINK!

MATHEWS
What is that? it sounds like rain...

FEMALE NC MEDIC
lead rain you dumb boot motherf--

NC SARGEANT
Stow it, Soldier! Now would be a good time to get your heads in the game

SUNDER DRIVER
This is our stop. Once the sundie's down we're redploying to the 'warp to pull the next one. popping smokes!

NC SERGEANT
Go! Go! Go!

>The soldiers hop out the rear doors into:

>>33326174
Looking good so far anon, keep it up.

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>>33326169
Thanks for the reference pic. fortunately these are just thumbnails, rather than the intended drawings

>>33326174
EXT. SUNDY (AMERISH) -- DAY
The sundy deploys as the soldier hop out the back, forming a perimeter as a thick clooud of smoke hangs in from of the sundy, obscuring the battle up ahead. A reaver SCREAMS overhead toward the battle, buzzing the sundy. Every soldier keeps their rifle at the ready except Mathews, who ducks

NC SERGEANT
maintain a defensive posture and keep it low profile

CHEN (engineer)
aye, sarge!

Sorry to jump into what seems like a story dump, but I only have about 3 good posts of content.

I'll just keep working.

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>>33326220
thanks!

>>33326226
CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
Look, cherry, this is just a back up sundy, nice and safe and not even that close to the front lines so i just need you to survive for half an hour, OK? I got cert time riding on it. You make it through and i might even give you a *whole* cert, OK? think you can do that for me?

>CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1 and HIGBY both jump down...
INTO THE FOXHOLET

he soldiers are up against the sides of it, rifles shouldered and rested against the ground

>SFX: (EXPLOSTIONS)

CHEN
Contact! one hundred yards

NC SERGEANT
what do you see?

CHEN
it's a heavy... just one, closing on us

MATHEWS climbs up next to CHEN and peers over the edge of the foxhole.
CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1 pulls HIGBY down into the pit as CHEN'S HEAD EXPLODES.
CAUCASIAN SOLDIER #1 rolls on top of HIGBY. A thousand angry tracers scream over the top of the foxhole

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whoops! not: HIGBY is slug-name for MATHEWS in that last excerpt of the script

>>33326264
PAN UP
The SALTY VET is suspended in mid air for a second that feels like an eternity. in his left hand is a serrated bowie knife and in his right is a CARV. His whole weathered faces is twisted in grimace like he spent a hundred years sucking on a sour pickle. pouncing on his prey, his weapons are at the ready while his legs are catlike tucked beneath him.the
SALTY VET's knife stabs deep into FEMALE MEDIC's shoulder as he hipfires his CARV. SALTY VET uses his knife to drag her in front of him as a shield, propping his carve on her opposite shoulder. she takes a bullet in the gut as he shoots CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #2 to the chest a dozen times. his shields flicker and vanish in a hail of fire to his side. SALTY VET spins to his attacker activates his over shield and gun down LATINO NC SOLDIER

>>33323381
still wrong century

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NOW here is where the problems are happening. in the script and on the page im trying to thumbnail, the first two panels in the top left I'm set on where it shows the 'salty vet's shields (every soldier in this universe has force fields to protect a la the spartans in Halo) as depleted, and his smug reaction with the grazing wound.
after that, however, i figure out how to panel the rest of the scene. it needs at least two perspective shots, a high angle shot of the heavy standing over Mathews and NC soldier and low angle shot peering up from their perspective at the salty vet, a shot of the vet shooting into the soldiers back, a shot of the heavy dropping his empty LMG into the dirt,and then 2 or so shots showing the vet about to execute the medic with a high caliber revolver.

the next page would show mathews tossing off the nc soldiers corpse while grabbing a carbine off the ground and shooting the salty vet heavy in the throat.

at least that's how Im imagining it, but i can't decide on the paneling for either the next page, or the one im posting, and that's where i need help

>>33326301

He drops his overshield. a SINGLE DROP OF BLOOD tickels from a grazing wound on his cheek. The heavy drops his empty CARV next to one of the corpses on the ground as he unsheaths his knife from the shoulder of FEMALE NC SOLDIER. The SALTY VET kicks her formward and draws his Commissar

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>>33326367
the rest of the scene would have been as follows:

Just then HIGBY roles the CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1 from at him and raises his MERCENARY he glances away was the bullet tears into the SALTY VET'S NECK. He falls to his knees, gurgling. His eyes widen. his face goes grey. he falls to his knees then kneels onto his side, gurgling, grasping his neck and flailing his legs. as the the life drains out of him, he locks his eyes with HIGBY. FEMALE MEDIC sticks herself with a medkit, sutchering her wound closed before her eyes and then reviving the other soldiers. They gasp and sit up as the life comes back to them. CHEN's body is already dematerialising

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
Holy Christ, kid

HIGBY
is he... dead?

FEMALE MEDIC uh, yeah

HIGBY
fuck!

SALTY VET'S BODY (foreground) begins dematerializing as CHEN begins to rematerialize at the sundy

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #2
Hey wait a minute, that's...

LATINO NC SOLDIER
friend of yours?

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #2well i don't know his name but I've been killed by him before. one of those hotshot battle rank hunn'ed plus

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
Hey! i want a full fucking fifty certs for this one! kid's earned it

NC SERGEANTnot bad, killer
>NC SERGEANT gives a thumbs up

HIGBY rubs the back of his head and with a blush, a proud smile, and a twinkle in his eye says

HIGBY(proud and naive)
It's no much i guess, just saved your lives because i got lucky

CHEN
Saved our lives? you saved our convenience, kiddo. you got a long way to go

CAUCASIAN NC SOLDIER #1
how's it feel to be a killer, killer?

HIGBY
Well i don't feel too bad, knowing he didn't really buy the farm and all

NC SERGEANT
you should. buying the farm's the greatest kindness you could to a body like him

LATINO NC SOLDIER
yo killer. go back to the Sunderer and grab me the canteen. It's on top of the bench seats in the back

HIGBY climbs OUT OF THE PIT

NC SERGEANT
don't let him boss you around like that, killer. He doesn't even have rank on you

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DO NOT BE IGNORANT OF THE OXFORD COMMA

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>>33327140
IT CAN LITERALLY GET YOU MONEY

>>33327367
>>33327140
I don't understand why anyone WOULDN'T use it though

>>33327389
Chiefly? Ignorance and uncaring.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHfwuWcS800
Enjoy this while I take a walk and go figure out what to write.

>>33327995
Fuck off poltard

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To /k/atch a Predator

Part 3: http://pastebin.com/T6R3g4Er
Full version: http://pastebin.com/MCy0dm3k

Threw in some action in this one since I felt like the story was looking too much like a slice of life anime (nothing wrong with that but just not what I set out to write). Honestly I'm surprised I got this far with it, and it looks a lot different than what I orignially planned it out to be. As always Comments and feedback are valued and appreciated...

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soon

>>33328076
no. Who else will autistically shitpost unknown hinson? besides, it's funny. Ghost gets fuming PISSED when people mess with his intro and he plays cans.wav
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IH5j9-bR7dg

[here we go niggers]

You arrive at the store eventually. An older man, with gray, thinning hair looks up to you from behind a desk

‘Good day, what can i do for you?’

The question was directed to you, but before you can answer, Lily steps in front of you

>I have some older clothes, but they are getting a little out of time. I wonder if you can say, remake them with another fabric
‘Little unusual as requests go, but i could make that work. You have the clothes in the bag i assume?’
>Yes

Lily puts the gym bag she has carried with her on the counter. There is a hint of metallic banging when it lands. That was probably a machine pistol. Lily does however seem undaunted and puts her old uniform on the counter. The man takes the jacket up, looks at it, feels the fabric, and then his eyes stop.

No longer is he watching it with the professional eyes of a craftsman. It’s something different. Something you can’t put your finger on. He puts it down on the counter in front of him. He sighs heavily and turn to Lily

‘You know… where i come from there is a saying’
>Okay?
‘Once is never, twice is one time too many’
>I’m sorry, what do you mean?
‘Miss, i’ve worked here for 35 years, i’ve never seen any of this. And now you stroll in here, with the second one in a week’

Lily’s eyes narrow to narrow slits, and her eyebrows sinks downwards

>Second?
‘Second. And its owner had exactly the same request as you have right now’
>The uniform. Was it genuine?
‘It is the same as you have. A little larger perhaps, but just as well taken care about as this one is’

Lily shifts the jacket around a little and points to a black, upside down turned sword in a circle on a white background. Her finger bounces up and down on it a few times

>This… do you know what this is?
‘A unit insignia?’
>Yes. A unit insignia. Saw anything like this on your other customers’ uniform?
‘I did’
>Mind if i ask who the owner was?
‘If i can ask why you want to know’
>Because… i am fairly sure there is only of of these, one geniune of these in possession by its original owner in the US right now. Apart from mine, that is.
‘Is that so?’
>It is. And i’d be delighted to meet this person, if it in fact was the original owner

The man looks over to you and then back at Lily. You were not bad at reading people and could see he didn’t really want to say it in front of you

“By the way, we would want this properly tailored, that means you will take her measurements, right?”

The man nods

‘Of course. If the miss would be so kind to follow me?’

Lily looks back at you, more to confirm that it’s okay more than anything else. You nod reassuringly watch them walk away. Lily would believe this is only so that the tailor would be a little more comfortable. But you had other ideas.

As soon as they were out of sight, you find the only other person in the store, an older woman, maybe in her late 40 or early 50s. You make a polite request, and then follow her into another small room. Her hands grabs pen and paper, and she sets to work. She is very experienced, and has within a few minutes drawn up a sketch for you. You look at it, point out some changes, and discuss a little with her. The sketch turns into a quick drawing. It was a very simple motive. A woman in a red dress. It was a reasonable simple red and white sundress, three quarters length. Yet, it looked elegant and modest. It looked beautiful. You discussed a little further with her while looking at some of the material that could be used.

Once satisfied, you pointed to the two you wanted. You had forgone the fancier stuff like velvet for a much simpler material. This seemed to make the old woman a little happy in fact. a price is agreed on, and you are told to return tomorrow in the afternoon.

The dress was going to kept a secret to Lily for now. It was paid from your pocket, and you wanted it to be a gift. Given to her at an… opportune moment. You would give it to her in spring or in summer as soon as the war was over. Something to start your life together, in peace with

But for now, it was a secret. You head out in the cool air outside with Lily in tow

“So, learned anything?”
>A little bit. Basic physical description. “She acted a little like me”. Might have been our training. But we can’t really know anything for sure before i can have a word with her
“I understand. Anyway, how long until the uniform is ready?”
>A day or two. They don’t have much business nowadays, and i pay well. So i can get it done quickly
“Great. Want to do anything while we’re here?”
>Do i have to decide?
“You don’t have to but you’ve never been in big american city, so i figured you may want to go somewhere”
>Yeah…

Lily pats her gym bag

>My little gun is having some issues
“It is a 1938 model after all”
>It’s a good gun as long as it works, but it’s getting worn
“A gunsmith then?”
>If they have spare parts. Might have to find something new otherwise

You knew very well Lily’s tastes in firearms, and your wallet hurt a little just thinking about what happened if she decided she needed a new gun. Lily didn’t waste long flicking her phone up and started looking. You were quite happy with having turned her from someone who loathed modern technology, to someone who didn’t leave her phone alone at all in just over half a year

>I think i have a place. But it’s a bit away from here
“Too much to walk?”
>You shouldn’t complain, but yeah, it’s a bit far. Back and get the car?
“Let’s just get the metro instead, shall we?”
>Metro?
“You’ve never? Oh well, come on princess, time for you to take part in the displeasure that is public transport

You smile, take Lily’s hand and drag her along to the closest station, just a few blocks away. And, unsurprisingly, she wasn’t a fan of it. She didn’t like the train, the gates you had to feed your ticket into, to get to the platform. She didn’t like the man begging for money on the station much either.

But she remained calm and polite, until an older woman came onto the platform. Her clothes were old, and ragged. Her skin had seen many days under the sun, and wore the scars of time. Her voice was hoarse and dry, and her lips were cracked. A truly depressing sight. Someone a normal person would feel pity for. And Lily might have felt bad for her for maybe 5 seconds. It was at this point Lily saw the sign she was holding. You never caught a glimpse of the sign, because the woman noticed Lily and started talking

‘My children! Times are coming to an end!’
>Go away
‘You can still be saved! You don’t have to suffer here!’
>What do you want from me?
‘Save you! I can save you! The lord will save you!
>You can’t save me from anything i can’t save myself from, get lost
‘I can! These demons are unstoppable! Our weapons do them no harm, but i ca-

Lily could tolerate a lot. But this was likely one step too much even for her

>STOP

Lily screams from the top of her lungs. Everyone on the platform stopped doing what they were doing, turned around, and looks at the furious Lily. Children stop playing. Adults stop talking. It felt like the cars outside stopped, and even the big clock stopped ticking.

>You don’t have the slightest idea of what you are talking about
‘Stop lying to yourself my child! Our lord can still sav-
>Shut your mouth. You are possibly the least useful person in the united states right now. It’s not only that you don’t contribute to anything, you go around days to end scaring those who actually want to fight. You eat our food and litter our streets. And then, you have the courage to tell me how war works. If you think praying works, do it where no one can hear you. I’ll make sure the main gun is loaded. Piss off

The woman’s reply was drowned by the sound of the approaching train. She kept trading angry words with Lily until you pulled her along with you into the train. You tucked her in towards the opposite window and sat down next to her. She almost boiling with fury

“Just ignore her, Lily”
>If you did something like that back in-
“Yeah, i can guess. what happens, but we really can’t do that”
>...
>”Even if i can guess you want to”

Your grip on her tightens a little, and she calms down after a few minutes. And she does that again. Leans into you, slows her breathing and relaxes. She trusts you. It’s an absolutely incredible feeling holding her in your arms like this. Those 40 minutes just disappeared. without barely noticing, your stop arrived. A little wait in the cold and then the right train. This ride was a little shorter, about 20 minutes, but it left you a little bit to walk before arriving at the store.

Lily walks in, full of anticipation, but almost immediately looks disappointed

>What is this?
“What do you mean, it’s a gun store?”
>What do i look like, an old man? Who even buys this?

Lily waved her arm at the 30 or so hunting rifles hung on a wall

>What’s the point of this? Manually operated rifle? what is the point of anything manually operated under 37mm?
“For hunting?”
>WE are the hunters. At the top of the food chain. That necessitates a big gun. This here is pathetic

As she says this, a clerk rounds the corner, looking slightly discomforted

‘Welcome, can i help you with anything?’
>I hope you can. I’m going to see if it possible to get a gun of mine fixed
‘Of course, come with me’

The three of you go to the counter, and them man settles in behind it

‘You have it with you now?’

Lily opens up the gym bag and puts the old gun on the counter. The man picks it up and inspects it a little

‘Doesn’t look like an MP40 to me. it’s a replica i take it?’
>Replica? I thought you had to know guns to fix them. This is an MP38, as you can tell by the machined receiver
‘You mean to tell me this is an NFA item?’
>What? It’s a machine pistol, and it’s not working properly, can you fix it or not?
‘Yeah, you just need to show me the paperwork that you are allowed-
>Allowed? The world is falling apart, and you want me to give you paperwork? For a 9mm? Nevermind the tank destroyer, the MG34 and the heavy MG on top?
‘I’m sorry mam, but that is none of my business. We don’t want anything to do with potentially illegal NFA items’

‘Geoff, shut up’
A man in a suit enters the room

‘What’s up, boss?’
‘Get lost Geoff, check the phone or something’

The first man disappears, and the Suit sits down

‘Sorry about that, but you said something that caught my attention. You said tank destroyer?’
>Yes. I did
‘That’s interesting, because the US army hasn’t fielded any tank destroyers since the M56 was taken out of service’

You bring your own phone out and find the image gallery. Until you find that one picture. It was some months old, taken the same day the Jagdtiger was finished. You and Lily, and the other 4 crewman were standing in front of it. She was in your arms. You hand the phone over the Suit. He takes the picture and drops his jaw

‘I’ve seen that thing on the news. You two are part of the old guard, right?’
“The old guard?”
‘Yeah, rolling around with WWII armor? You took down a Juggernaut, right?
“Juggernaut?”
>I think he means the Class 5
“Oh, yeah, we got one of those”
‘They are usually killed with planes, how did you do that with 10 tanks?’
>...
‘Oh, and tank destroyers’
“HE in head, jaw dislocated and then could hit it in the mouth with a very big AP round”

The suit stops speaking, nods to you a few times

‘...Damn. That’s impressive. So what brings you to my store?’

Lily points at the old gun and explains how it’s malfunctioning. The suit nods again and offers you to look around the store while he looks at the MP. Lily spends another 20 minutes complaining about how all guns in the store were useless for what she needed them for. They were mostly too big, too clumsy, too slow firing or pistols. And she was adamant she wanted a wanted something automatic. She was actually really picky. Many weapons were disqualified at first glance

Any AR was too long with the buffer at the back, the AK pistols were combloc and out the window. No P90 because of the snowflake round. She kept saying no to things for a good 20 minutes before the suit returned. He didn’t look very cheerful

‘So…’
>Yes?
‘With the parts i have here, i can’t fix it. I can replace the springs, sure, but lots of the parts are worn. I can’t guarantee it will work well with the parts i have, sorry’
>Well, that answers that. I would have guessed that. That gives you the honor of selling me a new weapon
‘You need a tankers weapon?’
>Yes. As small as possible. Weight isn’t an issue because i won't have to carry it. And i need full auto
‘You’re in DC you know…’
>Yeah, so?
‘Uhm… Your MP here is illegal and will get you arrested if you are taken with it
>And this is somehow more dangerous than the Jagdtiger and all weapons in it?
‘No, and i’m not making up the rules. But…’
>But?
‘Let’s assume you were in the market for a handgun’

The suit bends down and returns to the counter with a Glock 17

>Seen those before, but i’m not touching any russian shit
‘This is Austrian, mam’
>Ohhh…

Lily’s eyes light up

>Okay, say i am looking for a handgun
‘And let’s assume you want the full kit, with the big suppressor, the shoulder stock and a bunch of magazines’
>Let’s assume i am

He looks at the two of you, nodding a little

‘Please, wait here for a moment’

The man in a suit disappears for a few minutes, and then returns with a large case. He opens it up, to reveal its contents. Handgun accessories. A sizeable can suppressor, a somewhat flimsy looking shoulder stock and 5 magazines. Three shorter ones, likely the 17 or 19 round variation, and two longer ones. But there was a gaping, handgun-shaped hole in the foam, right in the center of the case

‘There is some problems with the cameras right now, they don’t seem to be working, but i hope you don’t mind’
>Not at all
‘Now, it seems that your salesman found a box without a gun in it’
>So it does seem
‘But i’ve found a replacement’

The man places what can only be described as another Glock in the appropriate slot in the case, and then closes it.

‘Now, you get all in the case, which is one you saw, and some spare parts in the bottom. If you want the gun, i suggest you pay me the price on the little red label on the box, and then leave before i realize i’ve given you a fully automatic one’

Lily grins, and brings up another man’s credit credit card, swipes it, thanks the man politely and then leaves the store. You got the honor of carrying the gym bag, while she happily lugs around the big case

Back at the hotel, Lily strips the gun and clean in completely. She tries to get a feel for it, putting the magazines in and out running around with the stock and suppressor on and off. She seemed happy with it. Her eyes were happy, and she had that feeling she was an inch away from laughter at point. You loved seeing her like that. You both had plans to go out and eat something fancy tonight, but none of you could really leave bed after the little nap, You ended up just cuddling, eating 4 hotel desserts instead of dinner, getting tipsy of champagne and watching Top Gun

All in all, not a bad night

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That is all for me tonight. Standard disclaimers apply, r8, b8 or h8. Or post stupid reaction images with shipgirls on them, whatever

>>33329007
Just had an exceptionally shitty work week. Thanks for the tanks JT. I really needed this.

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>>33324659
>I'm not sure how I feel about the fag language

Oh Anon, if only you truly belonged here then

>>33329494
Aaaaand into the folder it goes

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P: "Oh shite, tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day, eh? Feckin hell, might have to see bout forcin an update if'n I ain't too out of it... "

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>>33329007
>Public transportation scene
I can relate all too well. Only you neglected a part where there is a guy who smells as though he hadn't bathed in over a month and with breath that could cause a plant to wilt.

>Glock 17 sale
niiiiiiiiice

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>>33329007
Do you accept motorcycle pics?

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>>33329837
more

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>>33329648
Tomorrow is gonna be massive m8. REAL IRA HOURS INBOUND

>>33329837
Oh yes. Folder is expnding!

But now with writing is completed, I'll pass out with absinth and chocolate milk I think. Never tried that before

>>33330077
Interesting combination. Good night, JT

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>>33328076
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9cld9bYdMk
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpWSrUfty-M
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ga0l2RXsyuE
For (you), Ghost.
>>33323825

>"Well, I figure that's enough about PEOPLE, the shitheads they are. When's lunch?"
"Lunch? OH, LUNCH! I don't think you get it. You're in the suit. You don't eat, sleep, drink or shit."
>"Oh. Right."
"You'll fit right in. I got something to attend to."
>"Hey! Take care."
"You too, Fireball. You too." Jack said as he walked away with a smile.


>>33330077
LITERALLY solid gits.... THEM DIGITS MAKIN' ME FIDGET!

>>33329696
That's...not a G17, dude.

>>33329648
Yes, an update you must have.
Likewise, I'll work on mine.

>>33330077
I was tapped out after rum and chocolate milk. I don't trust absinthe after my experiences.

>>33326940
I sent you an email. Please confirm that you have received it.

>>33329648
>Can't drink because GRB status

You lucked out this time, Potatohead.

>>33330361
Absinthe is like being bit in the brain by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large, gold brick

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sorry for the late update, ended up "napping" for a really long time

>The jarring sound of a phone alarm is the first thing that wakes you up.
>Next it's the movement of Pico next to you, accidentally hitting you in the face with a wild hand.
>You groan uncomfortably as you struggle to get up. You pull your arm free from Pico and rub your face.
>You turn on the phone and realize it's only 7 AM, you have got plenty of time.
>Turning around, facing the couch you see Pico has curled up on the couch. You smile, and pull a blanket down to cover her.
>You stretch your arms as you stride into the tiny bathroom, closing the door behind you and removing all your clothes.
>Turning on the vent, you shiver in the nude as you wait for the water to warm up.
>You climb into the steamy waters and wash yourself down quickly. Don't want to spend too much money.
>You step out of the shower, squeaky clean. Wrapping yourself in a towel you make the frigid trek to your bedroom.
>You put on some of your clothes, a jacket, jeans, etc. and clean up, proceeding to the kitchen.
>Grabbing milk and cereal you make yourself a quick breakfast, almost rushing yourself to finish.
>You look at the clock, it's only 8:15. You can probably get to work right now if you hustle.
>You clean up quickly, and stop at the door. You turn around, go to the couch and kiss Pico on the forehead.
>Hopefully she'll be okay on her first day alone.

so far these are all really good stories, keep it up you anons and named folk.

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>>33330853

>>33330991
As always, CUTE!

>>33329977
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OT0yoo9B2Bc

Some one close to Polybus, he is on the hospital, stab wound so he wont be that active for some time

>>33332903
Wait, what?

oi, post above me is true, poly is out for a bit. hopefully thread doesnt die overnight as i need sleep.

suggest next thread headline and title picture and if you are smart or funny enough ill pick it.

this means ill make the thread, no authors need to worry about it.

poly will be back soon.

>>33333109
shit goes down

also, i am taking care of my bins, life is busy or nuts in poly's case.

>>33333124
Damn, that's crazy, give him our best next time you talk to him. Thanks for stepping up in the meantime.

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>>33308014
>tfw all my writing is basically fan fiction tier detective and/or military stories
>shameless cross overs with already existing characters in tv shows, with a bit of self insertion
>saving or being involved with real people or their slightly altered (to the point where I just change their names and nothing else) personas I use
>written a few of these, havent finished any but theyre all so close in style anyway it doesnt matter

how autistic am I and is there any hope for me bros? I just like to write out of boredom and as an escape but then I over think it and get embarrassed and have to step away for a while

>>33333552
Don't worry about it, man. Write whatever you enjoy writing.

>>33332903
Holy fuck. I hope he/she makes it.

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>>33322645
That's got few words but many feels. I like it.

>>33323825
I'm enjoying the interaction between the two guys here. Really good stuff here.

>>33326425
I remember you posting this a few threads ago, without any of the pictures. I liked it then, and I think the story panels add to the enjoyment.

>>33328389
I wasn't getting a slice of life vibe at all from you. It's very gritty, I think kinda like Sin City. Not everything in the world is bad, but there's a lot of fucked up shit in it. But I'm really enjoying it. It's pretty good, and it feels like there's an entire world there.

>>33329007
That's the good shit right here. A bit surprised Lily never rode the Ü-bahn. But they probably never had the various Metro wildlife. Sorry to see the MP go, but I guess the 18 is pretty good, too.

>>33330991
Daww. I think I'll always enjoy a nice break with a Pico update.

>>33332903
>>33333110
Is Poly alright? Stab wound? It was just an unfortunate cooking accident, right?

>>33333552
If you enjoy it, it'll show through. Just keep trying to improve your writing, a bit at a time.

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>>33333871
>unfortunate cooking accident

Also, the way that the post read, I don't think polybro is wearing the hospital smock unless he wants to. I think there was someone very close to poly that was stabbed and is now in the hospital, tended by poly.

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>>33333906
I read it as the person who is close to Poly is the one making the post, saying that Poly is in hospital. But it's fucking English; it don't make a lick of sense.

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>>33330097
Changed the trip so the other person who knows it can't look it all up. anyway.

Chapter 6: A Happy Home?
>Jack woke from his sleep aboard the all too familiar ship with none of the subconscious cues of day that made him stay up and make noise present, he felt only a sense that it was time to at least be quiet, and an ennui creeping over him, which would have overtaken him about the same time he adjusted to a twenty-five hour day.
>As Jack came to his senses he started to stroke Pitra's hair, pretty and white against the blue skin of her face. He noted that the both of them vaguely smelled of sweat with a hint of alocohol on the breath.
>As he leaned up to check the MET chronometer and figure out how long it'd been since the ship launched he heard Pitra let out a sweet grunt and a small adjustment of her head as his shoulder moved underneath it, finding a new, position on his chest as he lied back down and pulled her close, causing her to stir a bit in his arms before coming to a stop and slowly opening her eyes.
"Morning, sweetheart." Jack said, looking strsight into the red irises and smiling softly.
>"Good morning, sexy." She said as she pushed herself up to his head level and kissed him softly on the lips.
"Sleep well?"
>"What can I say? You took a lot out of me last night." Pitra answered as she sat up and stretched, her supple breasts and midriff now fully exposed to Jack. "Put a lot in, too." She amended.
>As Jack thought about it, his sleep induced haze finally giving way to lucidity, he realized that she'd made good on her promise that she wouldn't be stopped when she was done waiting for him, and that he'd made good on his own promise that she'd have ample opportunity to catch him alone and in the mood.
"So. We..." Jack probed for words as he tried to think faster than he spoke, failing by volumes
>"We mated." Pitra cooed to Jack before planting a kiss on him and resting her head at the base of his neck.

>>33334906
"Mated. So that's what you call it." Jack remarked, mulling over this tidbit of the Acra culture in his head.
>"Well, you could say we made hate as you humans call it, but it was much too loving an act for that to fit."
"First, it's 'Make love,' and second, what kind of humans were you talking to that you picked up that vulgarity and not the actual expression?"
>"Ha. Must've been deviants. Though I do like the sound of that. 'Make love.' It sounds so poetic." Pitra remarked as she thought of the expression and lay her head on Jack's shoulder, pulling his face to hers.
>After several minutes, Pitra and Jack finally decided to get out of bed, Pitra taking the lead and showing off her shapely and well toned rump complemented by a pair of long supple legs and the same similar midriff Jack had witnessed earlier, taking all his effort not to turn the morning routine into another round while the two went for the shower. They would, afterall be landing in only a few short hours.
"So, how do you wanna play this?"
>"Try to seduce you whenever I'm in the mood, forcably if you're not."
"I was thinking more along the lines of whether you want to present yourself as my guard or..."
>"Arm candy. I want to present myself as your woman." Pitra answered, turning and looking up to Jack's face several inches abover her own.
"You'll hear no objection from me." Jack answered as he leaned down and kissed Pitra.

Someone wanted hot alien Fuggin. You'll get it. Soon.

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>>33334369
>Forcing a gun to overextend itself to the point it catches fire and begins to melt.
Poor vepr

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>>33328389
Nice to see Simon's life picking up, even if it's a little at a time. Roberts continues to be a piece of shit. Ashley...And Diego looks to be an interesting mix.

http://pastebin.com/u/556x51NATO/1/0/1/?guest=1

>>33335727
My dog died, I might post a lot, maybe nothing

>>33308649
Does this story have a pastebin missed the first half

>>33333871
stabbed on the back by a former friend

>>33333906
he is wearing it, still unconcious but out of IC

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>>33335900
Oh shit, sending poly good feels.

>Et tu, brute?

>>33333871
>Lily never rode the Ü-bahn
Ohhh, that was a deliberate move from me. There will be a "Lily: Origins" part coming up in the future

>>33308031
>>33308049
man i didnt know the year went by so quick its already christmas

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>>33335436
Yeah I kind of threw him in a last minute thought but don't worry, he is going to be an "odd" character.

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>>33335731
>Dead dog

Need something to cheer you up?

Have a dog in shemagh.

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>>33335960
>>33333871
>>33333834
>>33333906

kinda touching see a bunch of anons caring about someone

>>33337294
You okay man?

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>>33337294
NAMEFAGS AMD TRIPFAGS CARE TOO!

Now, heal yourself up, greentext the story, and come back.

>>33337294
Get well Poly, I really wish you the best

>>33338045
>>33337294

Ok, so because Poly is recuperating, I feel that I've waited too damn long to post.

I don't remember where I stopped last time, so I'll backtrack a bit. Also, because someone showed me that my real name was in the gdoc, I removed that link and set up a pastebin. There are likely a bunch of people out there with my name, though, so if you want me to open that link up again and allow comments on my doc, let me know.

ANYWAY, last time on [whatever the fuck I'm calling this]:

“She won’t...what,” my wife slowly inquired. I suddenly realized that I was speaking out loud in response to a question that she had not heard herself. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

I must have looked obviously afraid for my mental health. “Uh…” I hesitated, “The gun? I think? She wants you to pick her up,” I managed to get out.

“I’m still calling bullshit on the gun being sentient, so I hope that you’re fucking with me...for your sake,” she let the unfinished threat hang in the air. I simply shrugged and handed her the rifle. She, of course, grabbed above the cut in the stock and caused it to fall apart. However, she also paused long enough for me to know that she was hearing the same voice that I was. Her eyes widened, grip tightened, then dropped the rifle.

I managed to get a solid grip before the butt smacked into the floor. Recovering my balance and position, I noticed that my wife simply upended and downed the bottle, then quickly tossed it and grabbed a new one. After popping the lid, she turned and stiffly walked away.

“Honey?” I called. She remained silent and kept walking. “Babe?” I could not tell if she was angry, but I had learned enough of her body language to know that I should probably leave her alone for a while. Thus, I stared at the rifle in my hands and asked “what the fuck just happened?”

/I told her about me./

>>33338189
“I really hope I'm not going insane,” I thought to myself as I turned back to the-

/Trust me, you aren't./

I immediately shut down further directed thoughts. I've often considered the possibility of telepathy and exactly how it could work, but that was only a mental exercise. This, the thoughts in my head, the fact that I did not verbalize my last coherent sentence but still received a reply, the immediacy of the replies...this was too real. Thankfully, I had already worked out a way for me to function in the event of mind-readers: I only needed to think in vague concepts and not in complete sentences.

/That won't work, you know./ I had no scathing remarks, but immediately sent a mental note of displeasure and annoyance to the invading voice. /I can still tell what you're thinking, even if you don't use words./

Maybe if I-

/nope, that won't work either. And the direction you're headed isn't going to work at all./

How-

/-the fuck am I doing this? I'm literally in your mind right now. Don't fight it, it only gets more embarrassing and pathetic. I'll answer what I can when we have time, but for now, I'm pretty sure you were going to do something?/

She was right. Damn her, she was absolutely right. I had not moved since turning back around after catching the gun my wife dropped, and I was staring at it. I must have looked dumbstruck, eyes glazed over, almost as if I had been gifted extra chromosomes at birth. With a firm shake of my head to attempt to clear it, I started to unscrew the floorplate retaining screws.

>>33338247
Finally, all of the parts were on the floor. There, about two-thirds of the way towards the muzzle on the stock, was a clear cut that had been made. It separated the stock in two, was clumsily drilled into along the bore axis in two locations, and what looked like chopsticks were poorly affixed in place by cheap, quick-set epoxy. I had an idea of how to fix this, and although I was never a carpenter, I did happen to know a guy. I just hoped not to explain how a gun could talk.

Assembly took far less time. Odd thoughts kept bombarding me, though.
/You seem like you know your way around my curves. You've been with a real woman before? Careful with that screwdriver...you don’t want to scrape me there./

Ignoring her, I continued working and wistfully thought of my time as an ROTC armorer. Stacks of rifles locked into place, the heavy chain with keys on the ends, chipped paint from the cinderblock walls falling to my worktable, constant arguing that the fused bolts on these demilitarized guns were making it more difficult to work on them. /...they...their bolts? Fused?/

I pictured them in my fingers, that one afternoon I decided to act like I had Wolverine’s claws. /No...they.../ Congealed metal bound the edges of the bolts in my mind's eye. /Stop it!/ The real, unmarred rifle turned in my hands, but I saw the dented surface of the practice rifle instead. Plastic stock, crude paint, and gouged metal looked back at me. /I don’t like this. Don’t imagine this./ Crushed rocks and concrete left their marks when the student missed a catch. /Please, no!/ A vision of the breech, a memory of a curious junior armorer trying to see where the chamber ended and the concrete encased lead began, screwdriver plunging into /PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!/

I blinked. Where…? Home. I am home. I was fixing a rifle.

It was almost back together.

I was missing the bolt.

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>>33335731

>>33321618
Good shit, keep up the good work

>>33338321
>Sorry about the break, I was editing as I was posting and accidentally started writing a few more paragraphs.

My vision cleared. No longer back in the dusty concrete bunker, I turned and fumbled for the missing piece, acutely aware of its absence. I heard no voice. I was, at last, alone with my thoughts. She was gone. But where did she go?

I cast around to find that odd metal insert and was rewarded with the glint of dull steel under my cleaning rag. “How did you wind up here?” I mused, reaching with my free hand. On contact with the bolt assembly, I felt fear and an overwhelming sense of dread. My hand retracted of its own volition and I was once again left alone in my head. “What the hell?”

Confused, heart pounding, I began to tremble from the adrenaline dump into my system. I sat back on my haunches and forced myself to breathe. My hand shook like a recovering alcoholic’s. I stared at it, willing it to still itself. I failed.

I knew what I had to do.

“Deep breaths. Just like that one time...deep breaths. You got this.” Eyes closed, steeling myself, I held each breath before slowly allowing it to escape through pursed lips. I went back in my mind and acknowledged all of me, my person, my mind. “Oh, shit, this is gonna hurt.” I readied myself to mentally brace against the pain, against anything not me. I looked again at the bolt, gritted my teeth, and reached.

>>33339008
In the instant of touch, the assault began. Anguish came from my hand...no, not from it, but from that direction. I felt her attacks wash over me. Stalwart, I resisted. “This is my mind. I am master of my own world.” The attacks changed pace. The stream of agony became pulses of hatred. Lash after barb after thrown volley, she focused her pain into hate. This was far from over. “I do not attack you. I will not. See that.” Waves slowed, but hurt more. Each attack took more effort on her part. “You have nothing to fear from me. Believe that.” I projected my past memories into the breaks of her onslaught. I showed, or tried, my work of repairs on other guns. “You must believe me!”

This was not good. Her fear crept into my mind, somehow passing my defenses. I forced images past her assailing emotions. I needed her attention. “I mean you no harm!” I felt her pull back. I hoped.

/You hurt them!/ More pain hurled by anger crashed into me.

“I fixed them.” I showed images of the Springfields, at first battered, shining in their new stocks. “I would never harm a rifle.” More images of Springfields, starting as rusted husks and their conversion into healthy steel. The process of a full function check. Each image accompanied by a new wave of pain.

/Liar!/ She hurled everything she had left at me. I could not break, not now. She needed this.

“No. I am only me.” I sent my own wave of pain. It was small, just a memory of my Great Grandmother’s rifle, being fixed by my own hand. I was missing the bolt, and she was now dead.

>>33339055
She stopped. My gambit paid off. Her endless ocean of emotion retreated, leaving my cracked and battered defenses alone. Somehow, it felt less like victory and more like truce. My trance ended, the bolt grasped firmly in my shaking hand. With my other, I pulled close the rifle. I slid the bolt home and, with a promise to take care of her, leaned the rifle against the door frame.

My wife called up that dinner was ready to go. Slowly, and not without effort, I rose to my feet.

Goddamn, I needed a smoke.