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/wfg/ - Writefag General - "Waffengeists Galore" Edition

This is a blue board which means that it's for everybody (Safe For Work content only). If you see any adult content, please report it.

Thread replies: 326
Thread images: 74

A place to share books, stories, and assorted writefaggotry.

All writing is welcome, even if it's only tangentially related to /k/.

Old Thread:
>>31553248

Thread highlights below, compiled by an anon in the last thread. Thanks, by the way.
>>
>>31596291
FALWritefag

Argentinian Rose+Rifles of 'Nam

http://pastebin.com/u/Falwritefag

ATannie
Anon gets a AT random Mischief ensue (note to self, gotta paste bin that first part)

Part 2 http://pastebin.com/fJwM29Tz
Part 3 http://pastebin.com/Q8f5rf5E
Part 4 http://pastebin.com/SL5LuFcZ


JtFag

Ayys attack earth, Heavy tanks are last hope

Part 1: http://pastebin.com/EUTCq0YN
Part 2: http://pastebin.com/SAnTqTAc
Part 3: http://pastebin.com/MV6jhiYk
Part 4: http://pastebin.com/L3W6HStV
Part 5:http://pastebin.com/sN9Brhag

Trail Snake
DTHW 7 (fragment 1): http://pastebin.com/1406qbCN
DTHW 7 (fragment 2): http://pastebin.com/GZkBmfxa
DTHW Extra Side 2: http://pastebin.com/pE7y03eY
DTHW 12: http://pastebin.com/j6TetWvg

AngryHayseed
Some 40k related writefaggotry:

Part 1 http://pastebin.com/HiqBTsT9
Part 2 http://pastebin.com/9ifvW305

Anons
It's about /k/ommandos removing supernatural kebab in the dark ages
http://pastebin.com/43gfWSPf

Anon makes a PTR with HK parts
http://pastebin.com/U9BXSmqy

Get Ready for some feels m8
http://pastebin.com/g9srRrDn

dudebroguy
Untitled Stories
http://pastebin.com/gwhEBL00
http://pastebin.com/CEXZ4jXN

Not Enough War

http://pastebin.com/w2vnnieQ

10/22

Anon gets raifu
Day 1 http://pastebin.com/jEaMXFVk
Day 2 http://pastebin.com/6qUyqWKG

NOT CANNON Ending http://pastebin.com/q6bgiS98
>>
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>First part of ATannie
>>
>>31596297

We've finally made it boys! We've actually got our own sticky!
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>>
Smell that lads? Smells like Fresh Thread, right out of the ovens of writefaggotry & glory.
>>
>You hate the armoury
>you really do
>Sitting on the floor of your TLAV is a Fabrique Nationale Herstal C9A2 light machine gun, where you should have a rifle
>the armoury was, to quote "out of rifles"
>said the corporal in front of racks and racks of C7's
>yfw budget cuts yet again
>thanks liberal parliament
>you weren't even issued belts for the damned thing, because there's not usually a C9 in a support troop, just the vehicle weapons, C6's and the crew's personal weapons
>you'd just said fuck it, and taken the machine gun purely out of spite.
>now here you were with a belt fed gun and no belts.
>we bren gun now.jpeg
>you grab the short barrel from the bag, and fold in the stock, jamming a mag of blanks into the emergency feed.
>the gun has lost a few pounds and is now slightly "easier" to manhandle around your track, so you set her behind the engine, bipod extended, and prepare for a hardcore nap in the driver's seat.
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>>31596291

Why does he have a mosin?
>>
>>31596617
Baltische-Deutsche Landeswehr. Basically, think Freikorp, but working with "quiet orders" from certain people if you get my meaning.
>>
>>31596524
Hey, I remember you!
>>
>>31596524
aw yiss
>>
Alright, I'm working on a complete re-write.

It'll be done one of these days.
>>
>>31596524
>you awake to a quiet thud and a whispered "cocksucker!"
>shit, who's in your track and what do they want?
>you spin around to look at a very tall, very blonde woman rubbing her hat where you presume she bumped her head
>she's almost beyond tall, about 6ft 3, taller than you
>she's rather well endowed, and wearing black short shorts, CADPAT knee pads, and an unbuttoned red flannel over a black tank top that barely contains her assets, themselves in a black lace bra
>"it's impolite to stare, you know"
>oh. Shit.
"Uh, hi. You must be the C9, I presume"
>"oh, um... Yes, yes I am"
>as you fumble for words, she looks around, ducking carefully to not dislodge her Oilers hat.
>"this.. Uh, this isn't the armoury, obviously. May I ask where we are, and why I'm in a track of some kind and not on the roof?"
>you quickly explain the situation to her, avoiding the part where you were reluctant to take the MG
>"so what are we up to on this excercise? I, uh, I've never been with an armoured unit before"
"I'm the Major's driver, but the major is at a golf tournament in Quebec, so mostly driving from hide to hide for a month."
>as you speak, she moves from the seats on the wall to simply sitting on the hull floor, leaning against the ramp, so her head stops hitting the roof.
>you stomach growls, obviously ravenous for some primo IMP's
"You hungry?"
>>
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Reposting my story here, dunno if anyone actually wants this to continue, feedback appreciated, good or bad.
>>
>>31596863
Whoops, forgot link.
http://pastebin.com/nQqStGj6
>>
>>31596863
keep going m8 also i've pastebined the first part m8
just i didn´t update the sticky
>>
>>31596845
Oi m8, did yah pastebinned your C8 story?
>>
>>31596895
OP here, are you the guy who compiled those pastebins? If so, thanks, man.
>>
>>31596958
No problem man
>>
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Oh awesome my pastebin is right here by the OP so I don't have to keep posting it.

Good stuff. So whenever I post here you can expect my paste bin to be updated within the hour or so.

Also, I'll be posting my continuation in an hour or two here. So look forward to it those of you that are waiting.
>>
>>31597252
Yeah man, keep it up, shit's good
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>>31597252
Get hyped
>>
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Pic kinda related to thread
>>
bumpin for tha night
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>>31598366
I love /k/.
>>
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>>31595533

Your rifle springs up beside you, and wraps a piece of cloth around your neck. "Don't worry, you're okay. We made it through." She's fussing over you, but you can't help but feel she's excited. After all, a rifle's only purpose is for combat. To serve its owner. She has pleased you. She has performed her duty.

Henning speaks up from his spot against the wall. "Its not over." Your small smile immediately falls. "They'll be back. That was jus' the beginnin'. They probe where we're strong. Where we're weak. They'll be back..."

He stops talking, and loads three more rounds into his rifle. You cautiously take a peak outside. The slope is littered with dead, many covered with fresh dirt churned up by bullets and grenades. You can't tell how many are out there.

The light of the flares is dying, and again you start straining your eyes to search for attackers in the darkness. You glance at Henning, but he's still on the floor. Sally is talking to him quietly, and he's nodding and murmuring back. His shoulder is bleeding pretty bad.

"H-Hey! C'mon, Uncle Sam." You spit blood on the floor and pull him to his feet. "You're not gonna die today. C'mon. We need to..." You realize you actually don't know what to do. "We need a corpsman."

He slowly shakes his head. He looks and sounds half dead. "Trust me, kid. The medic has better things to do."

You soon realize how right he is. As you creep outside, staying low to avoid catching a bullet, the smell hits you. It's shit and blood, gunpowder and the smell of fire. You hold back vomit. A short, sharp scream comes from the trench facing towards the enemy.

Edging towards the trench, the smell gets stronger. You peer in and see a medic working furiously over a body. A Marine whose body has been torn to shreds. His shirt is off, and you can see where intestines poke out through gaping wounds. A few Marines look on, numb to it. The wounded man screams again, in agony.
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>>31598704

(Heads up. If the writing quality has degraded, please let me know. Writing hard the last few days, might have gone overboard)

You go back to the pillbox to check on Henning, but he's already beside you, Sally over his shoulder. "Fuckin' Chinks 'll be back any second."

Down the line, it looks as if your boys have taken some casualties. Bodies are being moved aside, out of the way. Wounded are being treated as best as possible by the corpsmen, who are few and far between.

Even though you're sure that the Chinese dead number many more than your own, you can't help but feel that they have the bodies to spare and you don't. Its not a settling thought.

Henning shouts over the sound of healthy men living and dying men dying. "Where's Jacob? I need him on the radio."

A thin, filthy Marine pipes up, in a tinny Brooklyn accent. "He was on it, Sam. They got him. Got the radio too. Real good."

He points towards the tent, which is now in tattered pieces. Part of it has been repurposed as a shroud for a corpse, whose left arm is just barely visible in the dark.

Henning curses and stomps over to the covered corpse. He stares at it angrily. "Fer fucks sake." He stomps away, shouting orders. "Chinks 'll be back soon. Lets get the wounded moved. Radio's gone, and we need ammo and reinforcements. I need a couple men to relay messages."

More quietly, almost to himself, he mutters. "And I don't even have a single man to spare."

He turns to you. "I need you to get a message back to headquarters. We need to move out the wounded. I want you to take a few men and hoof it back there. Bring the walkin with you." He gestures towards a group of men, those who are wounded to some degree yet still on their feet. Many of them hold their wounds and groan in pain. Some lay there silently.

You shake your head. "What about the next attack? You'll be overrun."

He tosses his cigarrette to the ground and grinds it with his foot. "Just do it. We'll hold out as long as we can."
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>>31598804

"That won't be long enough, sir. This hill is important. If it falls, then the Bowl will be flanked. And if our guys to the West fall back or are overrun, then we've got a hell of a lot of men who are gonna be surrounded up there."

You felt pretty confident telling him this. You'd overheard talk earlier in the day between some officers. The Bowl, which was the hill just to the west of Hill 199, was a major position that Communist forces had failed to take twice. The Chinese, the one officer explained, were intent on putting their artillery on top of that hill. That was way back when you were the assistant at the supply depot. Before you had delivered batteries to Hill 199. It was only earlier today, but it felt like forever.

You shake your head again. "I'm not going. None of us can go. We can barely see the enemy. We'll never make it back there."

Henning mulls it over, then waves his hand. "Fine, fuck it. We'll hold position till mornin' As soon as dawn breaks, we'll move out. Relief force should be here by then, though."

Now that the flares had died, the darkness was more oppressive. It was hard to even see where you were going, let alone see out into the battlefield. You took up a position in the trench- where it stank like shit and gunpowder. Where, you note, a man had just recently occupied, until he had been killed or wounded.

Time passes and the men settle in. Silence falls. The second attack doesn't come as soon as expected. Miraculously, another trio of flares go up. They hang in the sky, like tiny suns, their white glow shining against snow and hard ground, and the bodies and weapons of the dead enemy.

The flares start to die, and the fear of another attack rises in you. You start to get fidgety. You check your neck- the bleeding doesn't seem too bad. It must have been shrapnel from a particularly close enemy grenade. You check your rifle- she's fully loaded and ready to go.
>>
looking good and engaging
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Hey all, it's looking like it's about that time.

Who's ready for some war and some probably inaccurate radio trasmissions because I'm shit at that?

I sure am.

Picking up from

>>31588534
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>>31599514

>Burton and Walker could hear the fire light up the air, they could even see the tracers; the sounds of the claymores detonating, the grenades...the screams.

>The sense of urgency to get back now larger than ever as they both kicked it into high gear, running faster than they ever had running from the NVA. There was something about this battle felt worse than all of the others the two men had been in prior, but Burton was practically breathing fire as he sprinted.

>The sounds of his breathing all he could hear over his ghost like footfalls, the M-14 in his hands rattling against the gear on his chest, pushing his body to it's absolute limit. Walker could barely see the SGT the way he was running, let alone keep up the way he was moving, slipping past branches, leaping over undergrowth he couldn't even see.

>The man was a fucking wild cat, and he wasn't going to slow down.

>His boys were in trouble.

\
\
>"GET THOSE FUCKING SIXTIES UP HERE! WE NEED SOME FUCKING SUPRESS--" The LT from Platoon 3 screaming orders was instantly cut off, a loud whistle screaming through the air followed by a wet 'acghk' coming from him as he collapsed like all of the bones were taken from his body "SNIPER! SNIPER! GET DOW--" another man dropped, sliding across the road from the stride he was in, all hell was breaking loose, nobody could tell or see anything, only the cracks and barks of incoming fire and the laser like tracers that followed.
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>>31599558

>"Left! 3 'o clock! ...By the barbed wire!"

>Ellie called out targets to Carver as he fired, turning her to face the directions she called out, gunning down an NVA setting up a Mortar about 200m away, the moonlight just barely enough to light him up.

>He kept her sights trained on it as he kept firing. Another NVA...then a few more. Then five more then six more on top of that.

>Then deep thumps sounded as light the of flares from the enemy went up bleaching the town with it's sickly greenish yellow glow, Carver's eyes widening as he took it in.

>There were hundreds of them. Coming from everywhere, The scream of their charge sounding like the gates of hell opening as they began their death sprint into the city, whistles blowing over the roar of men screaming.

>"BLOWING CLAYMORES!" A soldier screamed, the flashes of light illuminated the outskirts of the town as he banged on the switches three times each, going down a line of four, the "THMP" of an M-79 sounded between the detonations of the claymores, a blast going off about 150 meters away, sending a bundle of the skinny little fucks flying.

>Carver ducked and covered his head as a burst of fire blew away the building near his head, Ellie screaming "LOOK OUT!"

>An NVA ran toward him with a PPSH-41, firing wildly from the hip, screaming like a man possessed his gunfire and voice stopping short by the bark of Guererra's shotgun sounding as the skinny Asian damn near flipped, sliding on his back as if he'd gotten clothes-lined by Muhammad Ali.
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>>31599620

>"ÓRALE!!! YOU SEE THAT LITTLE FUCKER FLY!? AHAHAHA!"

>Guererra screamed with glee, pumping his shotgun and turning, blasting again at another, clipping him and making him twist with the shotgun blast. The Mexican turned, shucking the action of the Model 12 and met another screaming NVA with it, sticking him with the bayonet at the end of the shotgun using his superior reach over the short Vietnamese, blasting him with the shotgun while he was stuck to the bayonet, booting him off with another laugh.

>"Me cago en todo lo que se menea! Suck my cock you little fucking Gooks!" Another shotgun blast filling the air as a pair of NVA eat it, dropping with just the one shell; wounded as he draws his pistol, capping them both in the head twice each.

>"Guererra get out of there god dammit!" Carver screamed doing his best to keep his friendly covered in his bloodlust; but it was too late, a bullet smacked Guererra in the knee dropping him into a kneel as he raises his shotgun to fire again, getting speared in the neck by an SKS's bayonet, the blade going through one side and out the other. Carver screamed with anguish at the sight and fired, stopping the NVA from stabbing him again as Guererra drops to his back.

>Carver ran out to him, dragging him into a building as best he can, trying to do something...anything...but he was gone already, the light Guererra's eyes was gone, Ellie screaming bringing Carver back to reality as he reloads her quickly, running deeper into the town, finding it was hard to see.....

>Tears were running down his face as he ran, his breathing erratic.

>He slammed into a building in his fit, the impact ringing his ears as he went down...looking up and putting his now cracked glasses back on his face....it was no building he'd hit...It was his SGT.

>Burton instantly grabbed Carver and forced him to his feet, screaming over the fire.
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>>31599682

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, CARVER!?"

>"S-SIR! WE FOUND A COMMUNICATIONS DEPOT IN THE COMMUNITY BUILDING! IT HAD MAPS...TONS OF FUCKING MAPS! THEY'RE COMING TO GET RID OF THEM SIR! THEY GOT GUERERRA! I COULDN'T...I COULDN'T SAVE...." He reported loudly, stopping suddenly partially because of the gunfire, partially because he had gone a bit deaf from Ellie and the explosives. But mostly from the pain in his heart at the sight of losing a friend.

>The flares finally started fizzling out, Burton immediately starting to scream commands, Carver slowly gaining his sense of duty again. His head getting right now that Burton was back, the sensation he'd get out of all this and make it home if he listened to whatever Burton said starting to fill him from the inside.

"GET THOSE FUCKING GUNS SET UP ON THIS FUCKING PERIMETER NOW; WHAT IN THE NAME OF DOGFUCK ARE YOU DOING! MEN ARE DYING YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLES! YOU THREE GET THOSE 79's AT THE NORTH AND EAST WE NEED TO STEM THEIR FIRE FROM THE JUNGLE! FINNY! FINNY GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

>Burton snatched the handset off the operators back taking the hand piece.

"THIS IS ALPHA ONE ACTUAL; I'VE GOT HOT CONTACT; HOT CONTACT REQUEST IMMEDIATE CLOSE AIR SUPPORT; BRAVO ROMEO 945374, DANGER CLOSE; SAY AGAIN BRAVO ROMEO 945374, DANGER CLOSE."

>Burton ducked down as a small burst of gunfire zipped by him, Carver and Finny following, laying prone behind a row of sandbags 3rd Platoon had set up, a voice crackling through the headset from the control tower.

>"Rrrrroger that...putting you on with Snake 13 he's a way out give him some time, Alpha one."

>Burton growled a bit hoisting his M-14 Up And fired a burst in full auto over the sand bag he was ducking behind, a different voice coming through the Prick-25 about 5 minutes later.

>"Alpha One, Alpha One. This is Snake 13 on Fox Mike How read?"
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>>31599787

>Burton grabbed the handset in a rush, and spoke into the handset as clearly as he could.

"Snake 13 this is Alpha one; You're loud and clear Pops; I got Dinks barreling over our asses all over the fucking place out here we're getting hammered hard as fuck from the north side. We're spread thin Unknown KIA's unknown Wounded Think you can drop some napalm on these fucking zipper heads and give us some light?"

>"That's a roger, Alpha one. I've got a nice tank of the hot shit for them. You got panels out?"

"Negative. Negative. No panels. Spot green flare. Green flare. North side incoming"

>Burton fishes through his pack pulling a flare gun and loading it, aiming it up and firing, sending a green flare up for the incoming F-4.

>"Roger that I have green. Here comes the heat."

>Burton peered over the sand bags as the F-4 screams past overhead at 500 feet, It's engines roaring like a God at the uniformed heathens below, dropping it's payload of napalm, the brilliant orange of the fire making a enormous wall, filling the air and radiating light like a sun all to it's own.

>The stink of gasoline and laundry detergent wafted over the Marines as the fire picked up again, using the light from the napalm strike to get some more work done, the M-60's lighting up, NVA stumbling all over the fields, their skin ablaze.

>The jungle was burning brightly in the night, smoke rising like a tower in the clear moonlit sky, Burton keying the headset on, incoming fire starting to pour in not that the initial shock of the Napalm was over; using the light to their advantage as well to push an attack further.
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>>31599558
>>31599620
>>31599682
>>31599787

Absolutely glorious
>>
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>>31599869

"Beautiful work Snake 13 It's a fucking Bar Be Que can I get stat--"

>Burton spoke into the mic Carver screaming his name then firing, a mechanical screech deafening him from the handset, blending with AK fire next to his head, looking up, his ears ringing like Church bells in his head; right at an NVA standing over his cover -- there had been two, and Carver dropped one, saving Burton but...

>Finny was gone -- A string of bullets had torn through his head, neck and the radio, Burton grabbing the hot AK barrel and yanking his pistol from it's holster, pressing it to the NVA's head and putting two in the Gook's forehead with the .45.

>That dull whistle from before sounded suddenly as an impact slams Burton square in the chest, knocking him flat on his back, pain shooting through his frame as he smacked the back of his helmeted head against the concrete, his helmet tumbling off.

>That sniper was still out there...watching. Carver screamed a "SERGEANT!" and ran over to him along with another man from 3rd Platoon, dragging the Sgt into the relative safety of a building, the other G.I. grabbing his M-14 in his free hand.

>"Burton! Sgt Burton! Are you Good!? Where are you hit!?" Carver shook him, the sound of his voice was muffled at first, the sounds of human speech hardly audible over the ringing in his ears, slowly starting to register as his body re-activated itself.

>Burton choked, sitting up grabbing his chest, hacking air out of his lungs like a Tuberculosis patient. Not a natural cough. The deep seeded, whooping, weezing kind, spitting a mouth full of blood out, apparently from biting his tongue on the way down.
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>>31599957

>Burton pulled his flak jacket open and grabbed his bayonet, yanking it from it's sheathe, cutting into his shirt.

> It wasn't much longer before he was cutting into his own skin, growling as he did it, blood staining the hole in the shirt, the knife was inside, running down the blade.

>He dropped the bayonet and fished in with his fingertips, pulling out a flattened rifle bullet dripping with blood and dropped it on the floor of the the shop they ducked into.

>Whatever the fuck happened with that bullet. He was lucky, it hit his armor and barely got stuck in his skin, it felt like he had gotten hit with a sledge hammer...out of a window of Mack truck going 90.

>Then he looked at his M-14.

>There was a hole in the stock about 3 inches from the butt plate.

>He could have sworn he had it muzzle up, not down...But he didn't have time to analyze it. She would still shoot and the damage was cosmetic at best, her function was all in order; and that was what mattered the most.
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>>31600034
And this is where I stop for the night~

I'll be back tomorrow, do look forward to it everyone.
>>
>>31596297
Does the ATannie make anyone else think of witchcraft works?
>>
Some absurd fun for someone to run with or other to laugh at, cause god knows I sure laughed at this idea.


Basically, Mel Johnson gets massive congressional funding. Not for his rifle, but for his idea of motorizing the Gatling..


=He was barely 18 when he "saw"(more like heard) his first "waffe"..


Some insane jarhead named Johnson had been pushing the concept of radar aimed Gatling guns for a while now, and some equally crazy congressman had apparently convinced the War Department to fund his ideas. \

Suddenly, December 9, 1943, Private R. Wilson Evans, recently of St Ignace Mi, was in command of a bizarre looking battery with a quartet of six barelled howitzers, supposedly capable of macerating anything in it's path.

And this, the concept of a single battery being able to take down anything by sheer mass of fire was not the amazing part. Odd, and the whole radat guidance bit was "space age" . What made the whole endeavour utterly mad was incorporating what looked like a 20 year old girl at the heart of the system.

The sirens would go off, he'd see the planes coming,and "escort her" to the battery, where she'd sit down and "wear" the battery of four six inch bore, six barrelled Gatling cannon. She'd then glance at him. And then he knew, he needed to either get down or tolerate the world ending noise the guns made.

The slab mounting this contrivance was fourteen inches of reinforced concrete, and it was showing the strain.

This time he managed to get into cover, before the first burst. A long, shattering burst that reduced a whole squadron of He 111's to scrap, followed by a second quick burst that dealt with the still unseen escorts. He'd seen "her " intercept a number of V1's and then the as yet unheard of V2's. The V2 intercepts terrified the locals by the bowel shattering, world ending noise the prolonged firing of 6' cannon at 6,000 RPM could make..-=
>>
>>31600054
Cockteasing son of a bitch.

I love it.
>>
>>31600054
The F-4 section was borderline erotic

>>31600124
Witchcraft? Not entirely sure what you mean there, but AT is pretty fun I think
>>
>>31596691
>Baltische-Deutsche Landeswehr

Did they speak German, Estonian, or both? Because that's almost certainly Estonian on the armband he's wearing, and I'm more inclined to believe he's either a Kaitseliit member or maybe even a Finnish volunteer of the Estonian war of Independence, since the text on the armband seems to be "soome"-someting, meaning "Finnish".
>>
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Something im really considering is fanficcing a chapter 3: peace
continue the plot with it concluding on venom snakes death at the hands of solid snake
would anyone actually like to see that?
if so what would you want included in the story?
>>
>>31601591
Oh shit, that happened, didn't it? Wasn't the whole point of MGSV to clear up how Big Boss could "die" to Solid Snake twice?
>>
>>31601690
Well its just there was gonna be a whole extra chapter after kingom of the flies, which i believe was gonna explore more of venom snakes decline into insanity
>>
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Anybody have a complete screencap of this one? Or a link to a pastebin?
>>
>>31595525

>not wanting JTfag in fluffy hair to be your 3D waifu
Your loss m8
>>
>>31602446

I bet she has a cute accent.
>>
>>31602446
>implying 3d fluffy waifu isn't the dream for all of us
>>
>>31602446

>tfw fluffy JT will never hug you like fluffy hugs tank rounds

;-;
>>
shit forgot about Rhodie writefaggotry
http://pastebin.com/G0edSbFC
>>
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>>31602944
>>31602894
>>31602756
>>31602446
this is just a little creepy, but it's like a soft, comfy creepy.
>>
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>>31603287
Most of us salty shits would settle for a headpat, honestly.
>>
>>31598821
yo man, have you update your pastebin or should i go aheadand pastebin it?
>also keepgoing m8 i like were this is going
>>
>>31603287

/k/ is full of weirdos. But we're mostly harmless weirdos.
>>
>>31603152
I'm in the process of re-writing it, so it's no big deal.
>>
>>31603412
>harmless

I dunno, I mean this is the weapon board after all
>>
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>>31603448

Sometimes it's the creepy ones with the biggest hearts <3

And depending how I feel in about 30 minutes I might start posting again, but they'll be slower than usual; potentially more sporadic as I'm at work now. So we'll see how all that goes.
>>
>>31603482
Alright, looking forward to it. And I feel this is getting a little too close to attention whoring, so I'll post as anon for until I have some more writing I think
>>
>>31603287
The likelihood of actually meeting one of us weirdos is astronomically low, and considering I've already got a qt Lithuanian woman, it's even less likely.
>>
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>>31603507

lmao, don't worry about all that.

Ain't your fault it came out, just ignore it and shit'll go back to normal.

But yeah, I think I'm going to get some lunch and I'll get to posting what I wrote last night when I finished posting here; also re-reading my last couple of posts last night. Jesus fuck were they god awful in terms of like....clarity.

I fixed the pastebin so that whole section is far better written. That's what happens when you try and put in afterthought items while dead tired.
>>
>>31603448

>mostly

Operative word.
>>
>>31600054
No self respecting man ends their sentences in a ~ while associates their posts with a tracing slav. That makes you either a crossboarding weeb, or a grill.

pls be in london
>>
>>31603668

Well one of these things is correct. But I'm not going to give it to you in an easy answer.
>>
>>31603777
My guess, cross boarding weeb.

So how bout that story?
>>
Bumping, and i'll have 3 posts in a few minutes
>>
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>>31605451
And I was just about to go to bed.
>>
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>>31605451
Yoooo JTFag just want to say I've been following your story since the original thread and I have been enjoying it immensely. I think it works best on a medium like 4chan since we all want to get to the meat of the story quick.

One thing that would help is the advice I gave before, about saying who is speaking vs using symbols or greentexting, as if makes the story flow better, but if you haven't got the hang of it yet it's alright.

Good luck with your health issues and I hope you don't die
>>
The car is left in one of the vehicle halls, and you are surprisingly reluctant to let it go. Strange as it may sound, it was a very fun machine to drive.

Is Lily going to be jealous if i say that out loud? Better not take any chances. She soon speaks up

>So, let's get Grey and then head for food? Nat is there, and she has some news
"Nat huh? you are on nickname terms now?"
>don't say that!
"why not? it even seems like a big thing among you guys. i think its cute, really"
>DON'T CALL ME THAT... at least not when there are other people around

"alright, alright" you say as you shove to door to the infirmary open "you still are though"


Lily prepares to start another verbal assault, but you interrupt her by speaking to one of the doctors. Grey's condition is described as "stable". Stable doesn't actually mean anything other than "not going to die today at least". She does look a little pleased to see you. Once again you and Lily help her to some clothes. She looks even more host-like now. Completely robed of all color. Hair, grey. Eyes, grey and falling apart. Very scary looking actually. Skin pale, without most of the normal normal skin color. She is obviously in pain, but tries her best to not make it obvious. But, in this case, its as futile as painting a Fleet carrier with camouflage paint. But Grey was determined to do it anyway, and she even wanted to walk on her own. But once again, Lily supports her and you slowly make your way to get some food. Somehow, they slide in at the table with the two other collaborators, leaving you to once again get three trays of food and drink. But if this is what a man must do to ride a tank, you could get used to it. When you return, it really looks like they are cooking up something, lowered heads, hushed voices, and peeking over small black notebooks. Strangely, Natalya is first to notice you

¤ Anon! come sit with us! I got the radio working again, and i have learned a lot of interesting things, come let me tell you!
>>
A lot of things are discussed, how the west coast now is more fucked that a Thai whore the day the navy left, how the navy has gotten interested in the idea with steel for armor, and the possible implementation of a "sixteen inch hollow point". Production of the "T-12" for usage from large aircraft, whatever a "T-12" is. The army has already started a design study of a new steel armored tank in the 55-ton weight class, and is to be rushed in production. You also got informed how you are soon going to get supplied 128 mm rounds by the army, as long as you promise to "do thorough testing on various different types of large caliber ammunition and their efficiency against extra-terrestrial threats". That was the government way of saying "fuck shit up and tell us what works best".

A plan for tomorrow is shaped as well. You check fuel consumption, speeds, checkpoints, radio usage and such things. Everything is to be prepared tonight. Cars loaded up and prepared, and you will leave as soon as the sun sets tomorrow. So, a proper nights of sleep is in order now, even if you are going to need some energy drinks, and possibly drug laced chocolate to keep going through the night. It would be exiting at any rate. After a few hours, and several pages filled in some notebooks, you head to sleep. Or well, drop of Grey and get another round of shit from the doctors first. Once again they are not very happy with carrying away their burn victims, and they are very interested in Grey because of her recent cosmetic changes. Suddenly turning grey was something new to the doctors, and they thought they had an alien flu or something, when she was really just without a tank. But you can't tell them that, and you don't think you can help Grey either.

An hour later, you and Lily are both washed and lying under a thick army blanket. You have usually never liked silences. They always turned awkward. But here, next to Lily, it just felt comfortable
>>
You were both comfortable with the silence because nothing else really had to be said. So many times, for the last few months you both had fallen asleep like this. But tonight...

>it needs a name.
"huh?"
>the Jagdpanzer
"but you-"
>not me silly, the machine. See, all other ones have names. And just "331" and a black cross on the side looks kinda...off
"just grab a spray can and write something on it? like that movie?"
>yeah, like that movie
"know what to call it?"
>maybe not a name. But i know what to write on it, yes. I don't think the others will like it, but... i still have pride, and some reputation to uphold.
"great. I'll help you if you need me"
>no. i'll take care of it. Good night Anon
"good night Lily"

A new day dawns, and for the first time in quite a while, you are not awoken by a little drooling on your shoulder the warmth of her body against yours, or her bouncing up and down next to you because she wants you to get up. Today you wake up alone, and it feels really lonely, since you have gotten so used to the nightly company by now. But this allows for you getting up and dressed within 3 minutes. Lonely? yes, but very efficient. You don't even bother with a Panzerwaffe meal, but rather just head out to the Jagdtiger. The old, flaking paint still remains on the vehicle, but is carved out in two places. First, a 2x3" rectangle on the top of the side superstructure is cleared of pain, showing the silver-grey metal underneath. At the very top, close to the roof, a large black-and white balkenkreuz is painted, with the number "331" underneath

Under that, a little above the mudguards, a large ten-letter word is written. Lily stands a little back and proudly examines her work

"what does it say? i mean it's not english"
>oh hey Anon. It says "Vergeltung"
"and what does that mean?"

She turns her head back towards the vehicle and exhales heavily


>revenge. It means revenge
>>
>>31603412
Harmless weirdos WITH guns that we(not necessarily me) OCCASIONALLY fug
>>
She sat there, in the dark. Looking out that dusty window for a long time. She sat and watching the dust swirl, disturbed by her occasional movement. She wasn't the only one here. Others sat, still and silent. Simply gathering dust like the box's they rested on. She didn't look at them anymore. She didn't like too. Through the dusty window she looked out of, she saw stars. Their tiny light fighting through the dust and grime. She watched the moon go past, spinning among the field of stars.

She watched the days turn into nights, morphing back into days again. She could see a tree out there. Not like tree's she dreamed of, those had been tall and green even when the snow blanketed the ground. These ones swayed, as the sun got lower in the sky they mottled. Their leaves turned from green to orange and yellow, eventually shedding leaving the thing bare, naked.

She shivered, watching the trees sway. Slowly the world turned white outside her dusty window, as it had done many times before. She watched the world as it span. The field of stars struggling through the window. The moon waltzing across the night sky and she thought, she remembered.

She remembered the thunder of guns and the howl of the wind. Nothing but the flurry of a blizzard and the biting cold. She remembered the warmth of the fire. The fury and the fire. She was there to protect someone. It had been so long she'd lost count of how many times the world had turned white again and yet she could remember perfectly. It had been her duty.

She curled up as she had done many times, resting her head on the dusty box she lent against, watching the stars cross again in-front of the window. She tried to count. She tried to give them names. She tried to forget, for it was so long ago yet every point of light was a muzzle flash. The sun the flash of fire and the rain the thud of impacts.

There she sat, looking out at the world. Alone and forgotten. Another tear rolled down her cheek, dripping to the floor.
>>
>>31596845
>As the LMG tears into a new(ish) poutine ration (FUCK YOU LET THE QT STEAL YOUR CHEESY CURDS AGAIN), you place yours into a heater package and wait.
>"where's the cornbread?"
>as far as you know cornbread has been a breakfast only option for a few years now
"Hasn't really been in rations for a while now."
>"oh. It's.. Uh, it's been a while since I got out last.."
"Why not?"
>"well, the armoury at an armoured regiment usually doesn't have C9's, and you don't use them much."
"So how long has it been?"
>she looks gloomily into her poutine
>"about two years"
>oh wow
"Oh wow.. That's, uh, quite a while"
>"yeah, tell me about it."
>you stammer out an apology
>"no, no, I shouldn't be so bitter."
>she looks even more depressed
>you should do something
"I mean, you're here now, right? May as well make the most of it.
>"yeah, I guess so.
>she brightens, slightly.
>"Say, you have any cards?"
>>
>>31600950
Basically just Baltic-Germans, so Lithuanian, Estonian & Latvian Krauts; add in a huge amount of Prussian settler blending. Well, you get the gist of it.

That said, you might very well be right considering the hurdle Estonia went through. Good on you for bringing that up.
>>
>>31605929
awww fuck man, is it feels o clock again?

>>31606023
keep going man, i'm reading it
>>
>>31606067
More is on the way senpai.

Also, to the anon who wanted to know I I had there's on pastebin, no, but I've got them saved to a notepad file and I can upload at some point.
>>
Since this is a blue board, what are the rules on smut or lewd writing? Will I get b&?
>>
>>31606192
The lewdest we've is the Mini-14 and that was really just smut. I only think it counts for pictures though, so to my knowledge you can write just as much smut as you want, but i'm not really sure though
>>
>>31606067

I felt like writing something sad. I could write some more if you want
>>
>>31606237
Are you shotgun-anon or crying raifu anon? Either way or neither way, do it
>>
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>>31605929
Why the hell are gun feels getting to me so much?

>>31606023
Greatly enjoy your writing man. Keep it up.
>>
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>>31602894
>>31602446
>>31602756
Let's not forget that she can't get preggers.
>>
>>31606237
i'm not really up for feels right now myself, but i'm sure there are others that would like to. But really, don't stop for my sake
>>
>>31606253

I'm anon who's first time writefagging in this thread.

>>31606258

Because gunfeels are the worst feels. Even worse than those japanese animes everyone seems to like so much
>>
>>31606263
Okay that was just not cool
>>
>>31606192
Go for it? Doubt people will complain so long as its kept within reasonable levels.

>>31606237
You write sad very well anon. Go for it.
>>
>>31606276
Dunno about you, but that's a plus to me.
>>
>>31606274
Do it m8
>>
>>31606274
>even worse than those Japanese animes everyone seems to like
Mild kek
>>
She remembered when she'd first come here. She was sat right where she was now, staring out of this window. The others never moved, seemingly consigned to their fate. She didn't know, they never talked. Wiping her eyes she stood, tearing her gaze from her window. Looking around she saw what she always saw. Dust.

There was a trap door in the floor, so covered in dust she long ago stopped being able to see it. She knew where it was because of the box sitting on the corner. If she hadn't spent so long in those days staring, waiting for it to open she wouldn't remember.

A loud sniff, deadened by the dust. She wiped her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sitting on the box, she tried to compose herself. It was pointless, she told herself, no reason to get caught up on herself like this. No one to see. No one too care.

It had been so long, yet she remembered so well. She couldn't remember the sound of her own voice, nor what she looked like but she could still remember what she had to do. What she had done. She was never sure if she'd manage to complete her duty or not. She stared at the box. Lost into the depths of her own mind, so lost she nearly missed the box shifting ever so slightly
>>
>>31606453
please let this get a happy ending...?

>>31606263
i'm not sure whats implied here
>>
>>31606660

It might, I dunno yet. When I write I just make it up as I go along. Nice trips too
>>
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>>31606660
Implications are implied.
Also Satan detected.
>>
>>31606214
Don't forget Argentinean FAL and that one night after shooting PTRS. FAL was the lewdest, considering that Minnie was a tad vague due to being a quick write (Though very fappable)
>>
>>31607575
i was worried i got a bit too lewd with the PTRS stuff at one point. I mean i've made up a hundred saucy scenarios in my head, but they should really stay in there
>>
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>>31607575
>Don't forget Argentinean FAL and that one night after shooting PTRS. FAL was the lewdest

I'm still semi proud of myself for that. Also; Sorry about not posting anything this afternoon. I got smashed with work orders the second I finished lunch and couldn't even touch my computer again until I got home [Which is now.]

I'll be posting soon.

>>31604585
You might be surprised.
>>
>>31607644
WE'RE SEEING VAGINA LEVELS THAT SHOULDN'T EVEN BE POSSIBLE
>>
>>31600602
https://myanimelist.net/anime/21085/Witch_Craft_Works
>>
>>31607626
>I mean i've made up a hundred saucy scenarios in my head, but they should really stay in there
Let it rip dude. Let it rip.
>>
>>31607644
>You might be surprised
LONDON
O
N
D
O
N

Now pos story, I wanna read
>>
>>31607779
I dunno man. I'd really want to keep protag only lewding Annie, but I did a few implications, like the PTRS was found with the 10/22. I kind of a sucker for sizeplay i suppose
>>
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>>31603287
>>
Isekai 1950s/Super Panther guy here again. I started drawing again, this time for the uniforms. The Wehraboo side is basically using a Swiss field uniform (zipper, rectangular 2 snap breast pockets) in a Sumpftarn pattern with M1956-inspired web gear. The magazine pouches resemble those on a ChiCom chest rig, with toggles. Add brown suede jackboots and an M1956 NVA stahlhem to create a look that is both retro Cold War and decidedly inspired by WW2 aesthetics.

I don't like drawing camo patterns in pencil, though
>>
>>31607824
>PTRS was found with the 10/22. I kind of a sucker for sizeplay i suppose
>All the implications from the party
>AR15's barrel inside the WASR's magwell
Man, that was great.
>>
>>31607695
>two fantastic writers are women
This actually doesn't surprise me that much.
>>
>>31607644
L O D N O N
>>
>>31607804
>>31608182
GRILLS ON THE INTERNET ARE NOT GOING TO FUCK YOU
>>
im that anon thats has been making those pastebins, so a quick question, should i put a NSFW tag on the ones that has some smut or no?
>also inb4 writefags leave 'cause creepy shit
>>
He had had the weapon long beforehand. On the day of his 21st birthday he had walked into his local gun store intending to find something memorable for the occasion. He was a regular there, and a part time employee in the past. He chatted with his friends there as he looked upon their selection, finding nothing quite satisfactory. Then, on a table, he saw the perfect piece. A Smith & Wesson revolver decades older than he was with a lustrous bluing, gold inlays on the roll marks, and beautiful hardwood grips. He picked it up, mesmerized, and made his decision. He mounted it on his wall in a special case so that he could admire it.

Today, 8 years and 5 deployments later with more than a few lost brothers in arms, it sat on his kitchen table, the cylinder fully loaded, the hammer locked back. It had been there for months since his last deployment, taunting and tempting him. He sat in front of it, remembering.

He swallowed a sob, damning himself for not doing enough, not being stronger because maybe, just maybe, those things wouldn’t have happened in that far away place. His unit, family, and friends reached out to him. “You don’t understand,” he’d say and push them away. He rubbed his ring finger, feeling the spot where his wedding ring used to be. He picked up the revolver and pressed the muzzle to his temple. He had tried a few times in the last several months. Whatever religion he had left made him too afraid to pull the trigger those times, until he came to the conclusion that whatever Hell there was couldn’t be worse than what he was living now. His thumb wrapped around the trigger and jerked.
He was the twenty second that day.
>>
>>31608454
OP here, lurking, and yes, you should, I'd appreciate that.
>>
>>31608462
F
>>
>>31608011
I mean come on, I'd say Annie is like 6'3 or 6'4 or something like that and with the sort of body type where muscular meets curvy, and a big rack. Now imagine a tiny, somewhat boy-looking, very flat almost loli 10/22 with her after some drinking. Fuck I'm serious, this is just going to be smut
>>
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>>31608454

Lmao, this won't scare me off.

I'd like to get back on topic, though. I'll start posting by about 10 Eastern.

I'm just fleshing out my noted bits here and formatting it properly.
>>
>>31608492
>muscular amazoness
>qt petite fake loli
Sounds like you'll actually write this. Dreams do come true then.
>>
>>31608454
>I'll show you some creepy shit

Somewhere in the middle of forest in the continental United States, a lonely man sat by himself by a campfire. He was decked from head to toe in mismatched milsurp, playing a harmonica with an old lever action rifle over his lap. Occasionally he'd stop playing to take a bite of some unidentifiable gruel in tin can sitting on his knee, then go right back to the harmonica.

He seemed to be attempting to play some crude rendering of "Serbia Strong," though it would only be apparent to anyone familiar with the song to begin with. It was very clear that he wasn't a musician by any stretch. He didn't seem to care.

A twig cracked in the darkness. In an instant, the man had dropped his harmonica and shouldered his rifle. He stood up and scanned his surroundings, though his gas mask hindered his vision somewhat. He heard another twig crack. He knew what it was. He'd read the greentexts. Skinwalkers.

"GET OUT OF HERE, STALKER!" he shouted, his voice muffled by still carrying through the still night air. Then he saw it. Movement. Something humanoid walking towards, towards his campfire. He stood fast.
>>
>>31608548
b-but that would be impure. And honestly, while I can fap to the though, it's just a bit too creepy to write down.

...right?
>>
>>31608612
DO IT FAGGOT
>>
>>31608218
Bitch please, I'm beautiful
>>
>>31608612
>>31608492
FUCKING DO IT!! THIS WILL BE THE CREAM OF THE CROP AFTER GARAND FAG'S WORK
>>
>>31608620
Okay fine. Tomorrow then because I'm fucking tired now. But is that the most entertaining idea from all those guns in the household? Obviously I can't feature all of them in the same story, but there is a: PTRS, mossy 500, sks, wasr-10, plain-ish AR, a mini-14 and a 10/22. And I think a pistol aswell
>>
>>31608667
All of them

have a gun orgy

have PTRS give some special attention to each one
>>
>>31608652

>Garand fag.

Did you even read falwritefag's? That shit made me fap twice. No shame.
>>
>>31608606
"Blowout soon, fellow Stalker!" came a muffled reply. It was mimicking him! It was here to-- wait, he hadn't said that...

The figure came into full view, illuminated by the light of the fire. It was another person, also dressed in milsurp, face concealed with a gas mask and an AK slung over their shoulder.

"Are you a skinwalker?" he asked to the new arrival.

"Do I seem like a skinwalker?"

"I don't know, isn't that what a skinwalker would say?"

"Alright, should I prove beyond a shadow of a doubt I'm human?"

"I wouldn't mind it, if you would."

The person in question pulled off their gas mask, and shook their head a bit, loosening their long red hair. It was a woman. The man was taken aback slightly, and lowered his weapon.

"What are you looking at, faggot?" she asked.
>>
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>>31608811
>>
>>31608811
>What are you looking at, faggot?
Females...
Terrifying.
>>
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>>31608811
>>31608606
k...keep going m8
>>
Also, are we writing spoops again? If so can pastebinfag repost my older true and not spoops while I write new spoops?
>>
>>31608811
"Uh, nothing." He sat back down on his log. He looked around for his can of unidentified gruel. It had spilled its contents into the leaves in the commotion. He cursed in broken Russian. He reached over to his pack and pulled out another can, pulling its tab off. He held it out towards his female visitor. "Care for some canned... uh, stuff?" She shrugged and accepted it.

"So," he started, between spoonfuls of canned stuff, "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She held the can up and tapped the bottom, knocking some of it into her mouth and chewing.

"I'm exploring the Zone for artifacts," he stated matter-of-factly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

She gave him a strange look. "How long have you been out here, dude?"

"Uh... five weeks? I think?"

"By yourself?"

"Yeah, what about it?" He started getting defensive.

"Are you sure you're not going nuts from the isolation?"

"... shut up."

She chuffed and finished off her canned stuff.
>>
>>31608710
Same here!
>>
>>31608905
>A place to share books, stories, and assorted writefaggotry.

>All writing is welcome, even if it's only tangentially related to /k/.

yep m8
>>
>>31608710
It wouldn't be /k/ if we didn't fap to it.
>>
>>31606023
What hte fuck is a poutine?
>>
This is a true, and only semi spook. More suspenseful than skeltl scary.

This was back in 2011, i think. I Lived in ar-kansas at the time, up in the boothills. I used to explore the woods around my home, and damn could I. It was about 10 miles to my nearest neighbor if you discount the horribly placed VFD across the street. So i had lots of woods to explore. I saw lots of cool and weird things, like an old POS junker that must have been 100 years old deep in the woods. There had absolutely never been a road there either, just a random model T looking car rusting out.
But one time, i learned something. Never go more than a days walk from home into woods that deep without a real rifle.
>>
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>>31608973
Oh honey....

Only the best fucking thing ever on a shitty cold wet day.

Also, cooking dinner, then I'll get to posting, guys hang tight.l
>>
>>31608940
It was more a question of if people wanted more spooks. A couple threads ago I basically told all my innawoods spook stories, but no one seemed interested so I stopped.
>>
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>>31608973
>What hte fuck is a poutine?
pic related
>>
>>31608914
He picked up his harmonica again and started playing again. It wasn't long before the woman stopped him.

"Dude, you fucking suck at that."

"What, can you do better?" He pouted.

"Yeah, give it to me." He snatched it when he held it out, and started playing "Rhodesians Never Die" in a much more pleasing register.

"Fine, you win," he said, crossing his arms. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Chris."

"Chris?"

"Yeah, got a hearing problem?"

"Chris? As in Christie? Or Christopher?"

"What, you think I'm a trap?"

"The thought's crossed my mind."

"Yeah, fuck you man. No boipussi for you. NOT that I have one, I'm not a dude. Don't get any ideas, though."

He shrugged. "My name's Dave, by the way."

"I didn't ask."

"Oh..." The awkward silence that followed was palpable.

"Uh... that's a nice weapon you got there," he said, pointing at the AK she carried. "Mind telling me about it?"

She gave him a questioning look, and took a deep breath. Over the next three hours, she sperged out over everything Kalashnikov.
>>
>>31608980
The reason you want a REAL rifle, is that nature doesnt give a fuck about your rules.
Sure, tying a bell to your kit usually scares off bears and mountain lions. Usually being the keyword.
But it wasnt a big teddy that ruined my day, nor was it mittens the mountain cat.
Nope. It was a baconator.
People think of hogs as Babe, or cute little pigletts. Nah, wild boars are fucking huge.
And razorbacks are meeeaaannn.
Now i had my little bell on, and it was a-jinglig, so theres no way this SJW of the woods didnt hear me.
Nah, he fucking ambushed me.
Now i was a little 14 yr old, 100 lbs soaking wet little shit standing off against an (apparently) 900 lb oink-sterminator.
I did everything i knew to do, climb a tree, unsling my "rifle" (a 22 plinker) and put rounds on him when he tried to destroy the oak i climbed.
Yeah, .22 dont work on big game. He barely seemed to notice most of my shots. I even hit him in the FUCKING EYE and that just made him more angry at my cis male self.
I expounded a hundred rounds on this fugghead, and if it wasnt for the blood, you wouldnt thing i had even hit him.
Now, i would like to take a moment to discuss pig tusks. They are big ass evil looking teeth that can stick out of a hogs mouth in a number of ways. This guys tusks were pointed forwards.
And he was using them to absolutely own the tree i was in. Now, i was in that fucking tree for nearly three days. Fucking hog was not dissauded by blood loss, hunger or thirst. He wanted my kill. And it was looking like he would get it.
>>
>>31609156
It was a hot arkansas summer, and for those with no comparison, think of a more humid arizona.
I had sweated out most of my water, pissing out the rest (on the pig).
I was fucking dying. I knew it. I couldnt tangle with the hog and i was going to dehydrate if i stay up in the tree. I was not going to make it.
But lucky me, the fourth night brought me good fortune.
In the form of a pack of timberwolves.
Recently released back into wild after nearly going extinct, seeing one of these was like fucking a mermaid atop a unicorn next to a leperchauns pot of gold.
And this was a decent pack of them.
Around ten that i could see by the moonlight. And they didnt like Mr. Ham. No, not at all.
They wanted have him for to eats.
I quickly decided to accept the gofts of the gods and tactically fuck the hell off while I can.
So I unfuck myself from the tree and start heading back west towards my house.
Now, you may think that a pack of 10 timberwolves could take a hog...
Yeah, so did I.
Nope. If youve ever heard a dog getting fucked up, thats about the sound that these wolves were making. I didnt need to look to know the sound of a losing fight. Im fucking booking, running up hills on my exhausted, starving, dehydrated preteen legs. Doing a pretty good clip too.
But i noticed that the wolves got quiet way before i was far enough away to not be able to hear it anymore.
I didnt stop, i didnt live in a horror movie, i fucking kept booking it while saying a private prayer to based bigdogbros.
It let me put some distance between me and bighoss pig.
>>
>>31609118
It was well past midnight when she ran out of breath. Dave was half asleep. Chris snapped her fingers.

"Hey, dickbag, still awake?"

He snapped upright. "Uh, yeah, totally."

"Yeah, fuck you."

He shook his head. "Okay, it's really late, I'm tired as fuck, and I'm assuming that unless you want to walk through fucking Yantar back there in pitch blackness, you're pretty much asking to stay here for the night?"

"I didn't ask that... but... would you mind? Because yeah..."

"Make yourself at home." He stood off his log and stretched, then went over to a sleeping bag next to the log and started climbing inside.

"What, you don't even have a tent and you've been out here five weeks?"

"Situational awareness, baby." He grabbed a bunch of camouflage netting and covered himself up with it completely, blending in with the dead leaves littering the forest floor in the darkness.

She sighed heavily and used her pack as as a pillow, laying up against the log.

"Don't go stealing my skin in the middle of the night while I slumber," he said from underneath his little camo blind.

"That's not even how a skinwalker works... you're thinking of a fleshgait. And besides, neither of those exist up in these woods. What you should be worried about is the Wendigo."
>>
>>31609302
"The Wendigo? The cannibal monster? You're kidding right?"

"What, you believe in skinwalkers but not wendigos?"

"It was literally just some indian guys getting high after running out of food in the winter and getting some really bad munchies."

"Wendigos are real, man. They're usually floating around as those evil spirits that make people engage in cannibalism, but when there's no people around, they might take physical form and search for their own prey."

"Spooky."

"Whatever. When you get plucked out of your little hole by a wendigo, don't come crying to me."

Dave mumbled and fell into a deep sleep. It was rudely interrupted when an ear-splitting screech echoed through the trees.

He sat up. "Chris?" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Where are you?" The campfire had gone out, and the night was host to a new moon, so he couldn't see a thing.
>>
>>31609283
You may be thinking that hog was just territorial, or horny or what the fuck ever.
No, fuck you. It wanted my blood.
You know how i know that.
Because the story aint over yet.

I was basically flying through the woods, my body somehow finding more water for to sweat.
And that when i hear snorting and grunting and a wrecking ball of fat not too far behind me.
At this point i reckon im close to home, so i start screaming and hollering.
My voice is cracking and broken, but someone heard it.
The only someone that waited up for me whenever i went out, despite my regularly roughing it in the woods.
Based dogbro.
Now based dogbro did two very important things, first of all, he started barking like nuts (which woke my parents and gave me a direction back to the house) and secondly, he came to my rescue.
A ball of white, crazed growling fur goes flying past me, straight to (creative pig name) and latching on to his hind leg. Now, i didnt stick around as the porchlights came on and i ran right in, but apparently Snow the dogbro knew how to fight pigglywigglies since she didnt die. Dad says she was latched onto his hind leg and just kept pulling it behind him. Since he couldnt turn around, he couldnt kill her.
So dad hears the Oinkening happening outside and figures out why i look like a sunburned ethiopian. He quickly went to the Big Gun safe.
Inside this safe sat several of the bigger and/or more expenise lead pushers. Including an M82 Beretta chambered in .50 BMG.
He goes back out, telling me to stay inside despite me being nearly comatose on the floor in our living room, and about 15 seconds later i heard that telltale sound of gods wrath heralding that massive bullet destroying whatever it was aimed at. In this case it was the skull of the biggest hog seen in that area in nearly a century.
Dad called the county mounties as my mom gave me water and pizza. THE FOOD OF CHAMPIONS.
>>
>>31609020
Never seen that before...
I'm guessing it's not an American thing.
>>
>>31609653
Isn't it the preferred food of Canadians?
>>
>>31609671
Not Canadian, also never been there.
Come to think of it, probably never met a Canadian outside of the people on 4chan.
>>
>>31609671
Your thinking of Mac n Cheese
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>>31609414
Dave heard several loud cracks coming from the trees. He saw flashes too. Muzzle flashes. He leaped to his feet with his own rifle and went stumbling off into the forest.

Several more shots rang out, but they were further away. Chris was running from something.

He ran as hard as he could, dodging trees in the darkness, until he could hear her heavy breathing. Or what he assumed was her breathing. Because in the next instant, his sense of smell was overpowered by the stench of rotting flesh.

Dave then promptly slammed face first into a tree. It was a strangely furry, soft tree. One that smelled of month old poutine left out in the sun to ferment.

Looking up, he saw it. Outlined against the stars, but with eyes glowing a faint green...

It howled. It was the same ear-splitting screech from earlier, only now it was actually splitting his ears, and left them ringing. Several gunshots came from where he couldn't see, and seemed to impact the creature standing over him, as he was splattered with some sort of viscous bodily fluid. The beast shrieked and took off sprinting.

Chris came over to his side. "Hey, dude, are you alright? Still alive?"

"Yeah... was that...?"

"A wendigo? Dead certain. Speak of the fucking devil, eh?" She helped him to his feet.

"We should get out of here," he offered, brushing off his gear.

"No shit, Sherlock? But it's pitch fucking black, got a light on ya?"

"Oh right, I got one of those... but it's back at the campsite..."

"Where the fuck's the campsite from here?" she asked, growing increasingly agitated.

"Uh..."
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>>31609814
Keep goin man, I'm lovin this
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>>31609814
The pair of them ended up losing a lot of time stumbling around in the dark. Every noise set them instantly on edge, and Chris wasted the last of the ammo in her magazine in panic fire.

On the plus side, Dave was not jumping at every sound, because his ears were ringing like a motherfucker at this point.

Dave also still had a full tube magazine in his rifle, so they had that going for them.

An hour before daybreak, they finally stumbled across their campsite. "Thank fucking god," Chris said, going over to her pack to rummage for more ammunition.

"I'll get the fire started up again, maybe we can keep it away long enough for the sun to rise." He grabbed his flint and steel out of his pocket and started striking.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"Huh?"

"My bag, it's all torn to shit! Everything's gone!"

"What about mine?"

There was some further rummaging. "Yours too, all torn up... the wendigo..."

Dave got the campfire alight, though it was little more than a few glowing embers. Not much left to burn. "We need to gather more wood, kindling, and--"

He noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

It was really fucking close for him to have noticed it, since the glow was so weak.

Chris noticed it too.

The beast was there. Five meters away.

Chris screamed bloody murder.

"CYKA BLYAT!" shouted Dave, scrambling for his rifle.
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Well I was going to start posting, but I'll let these guys have the floor for now, I'm interested in this STALKER ish one.

I'll pick up as soon as he finishes.
>>
>>31609453
>Baretta
You know that means Barrett anons. Sows OwO
>>
>>31608612
Original anon, I say go for it. Ain't too creepy unless you make it too creepy. I mean I feel an unhealthy level of excitement, but fuck if I'm not gonna say go for it for science.
>>
>>31609966
BANG
clickclick
BANG
clickclick
BANG
clickclick
BANG

Dave dumped as fast as he could in the creature's general direction. Each impact was punctuated by a wet *thunk* sound, and a screech. It sprinted forward on all fours, tackling him to the ground. It pummeled him with its fists. He raised an arm to defend himself, and it chomped down, sinking its teeth in through his clothing.

Chris stopped screaming and collected herself enough long enough to take a hunting knife out of its holster in her boot and attempt to stab the creature in the back. It kicked her like a mule without even acknowledging her attack. She slammed against a tree, but her knife fell by Dave.

Dave had resorted to repeatedly punching the beast in the face with his good arm, and ended up blindingly poking the beast in its eye with his thumb. It let go of his arm, completely numb, and it flopped to his side. He rolled out of the way, and almost impaled himself on Chris's fallen knife. Snatching it up, he sprang to his feet in time to see the monster recover as well. They circled each other around the dying campfire, Dave with his one good arm, and the Wendigo with its one good eye.

Dave raised the knife and pointed at the beast, issuing a challenge. "AH NUUUU, CHEEKI BREEKI IV DAMKE!"

The beast answered with a roar and lunged, tackling him again and singing its razor teeth into the shoulder of his lame arm. It missed his neck by centimeters.

Dave made the creature regret its mistake. He plunged the long bladed knife into the side of its neck, and pushed upwards with all his might, supplemented by the adrenaline forcing him into a berserker rage.

The knife came out the back of the beast's neck, severing its spinal cord just below the skull. It fell limp and collapsed on top of him.
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>>31610141
I'm likin this, good shit right here
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>>31610141
You arent fooling me anon, i dealt with them before.
I was nojoke about my true stories, i called the not true ones when they were not true.
The best fiction is spiced by experience and reality.
>>
Now, lets see how I do with military-fiction.
Gimme an innawoods monster guys.
From sasquatch to the jersey devil I dont care. Ill do a story for it.
Ideas?
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>>31610248
let me give you a tough one m8, about a nahual
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>>31610248
I wanna see a Jersey Devil story, never seen one before.
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>>31610273
Synonym for skinwalker
The actual skinwalkers too, not fleshgaits...
Ill put it in the box, probably bump with it later, but i dont know how i can run that as military fiction.
I was thinking national guard response to monstro killings, but that would get seen as animal attacks.
Good myth though, fedora off to you anon.
>>
>>31610141
The sun was cresting over the treeline when Chris regained consciousness. She found Dave a few meters away, lying on his back in the leaves. The Wendigo was nowhere to be seen.

She knelt beside him and shook him a bit. "Dave? Dave? Don't be dead, come on..."

He grimaced and came to. "Huh? What..."

She gave him a hug. He cried out. "What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"Everything hurts... like a motherfucker..."

"Sorry... here, my trauma kit should be around here somewhere..." She looked around the campsite, and found her gear scattered a few feet away. The Wendigo had done a real number on most of it, but the medical supplies were still in good condition. She returned to his side and began the painful process of tending to his wounds.

"What about you?" he asked, grimacing as she took off his coat and applies antiseptic solution to the deep gashes in his shoulder and forearm. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be limping for a while, but I'll live. But you, we need to get you to a hospital."

"Agreed... I think I'm done being Strelok for now..."

She smirked and he smirked, and their eyes met, and sparks flew and it was a wonderful moment. And then he grimaced because he was still in massive pain.

She bandaged him up and helped him to his feet, and together, they limped their way out of the forest. They didn't speak much during that period, but not much needed to be said. They'd just helped each other survive an otherwise fatal encounter, and that the priority was making sure they didn't tempt fate by staying another night.

And so they limped along their way.
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>>31610280
Ill do it then, but if anything else pops up in the next few minutes thats more interesting/applicable ill hold it until later.
>>
>>31610404

Is that my queue~?

But seriously, I'll go for it, unless you're raring to go on this one, the longer you write the more time I have to post longer, so either way people that want me to post are getting rewarded.
>>
>>31610422
>>31610404
one more thing and then i'll be done
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>>31610422
Go ahead, ill go write it in word and cut it up. But i actually meant other suggestions on the spook
I could do like, the Yowie or 'squatch or stuff. Ive got plenty of urban legend books, plus youtube if i somehow dont know it.
>>
>>31610464

Roger that. I'm into the Jersey Devil idea, so knock my socks off with it.
>>
>>31610330
ONE YEAR LATER

Dave and Chris were camping innawoods. But this time, the forest was not infested with mystical creatures, and they had a tent to share.

Inside the tent, they were both naked. And she was lying on top of him. And they were both sweaty and breathing heavily.

She kissed him deeply and rolled off of him, laying by his side, still catching her breath.

She looked over to him, to see him smiling like an idiot and staring straight back at her. She couldn't help but smile back. "What are you looking at, faggot?"

"Just the prettiest girl in the world."

"Oh, come on, you know I hate that romantic talk crap," she said, her cheeks rosy.

"I know. Which is why now is the perfect time."

"Perfect time for what?"

Dave reached into his bag and pulled out a small black box. He popped it open, and inside was a ring with a little diamond embedded in it. Chris was rendered speechless.

"Would you do me the honor of making me the happiest faggot in the world?"

She started to tear up and nodded, wrapping him in an embrace.

"I love you, Chris."

"I love you, faggot."

A twig snapped outside their tent.

In an instant, the pair had grabbed their weapons and burst out of the tent at the ready.

A spooked whitetail doe scampered off at the sight of two naked people holding rifles. They breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"For a second, I thought we'd have to deal with a real skinwalker," Dave said, returning to the tent with Chris.

"I'm not totally sure, but I'm probably 99% sure those shapeshifting fucks don't live out here," she said, resting her head against her new fiance's shoulder.

"Yeah, I wouldn't worry about it," said something outside the tent.

THE END
>>
>>31610523
lol nice ending.

Picking up in my next post dearies. Prep for the shit.
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>>31600034

>With a grunt Burton rights himself, getting his Flak Vest all squared away, standing up and checking the M-14 over again with his light, just to make sure.

>It was a totally clean through and through. The wood splintered a little on the exit, but apart from that it was as if nothing happened; this was why he didn't upgrade to the M-16, the plastic stock would have easily shattered from the impact.

>Also because the primary operating mechanism was back there, it ran the risk of getting disabled from damage in the same area. Sure the M-14 was heavier and a bit more unwieldy than the the modern 'space gun' as some of the men called them when they were new. But the M-14--to him, anyway. Did better in this environment, barring of course being sure to take extra care in covering the open topped action when going through some mud or a body of water, but that was easy enough.

>And when he shot it into the jungle the small slim pieces of brush couldn't divert the path of the 7.62 projectile like it did to the light 55 grain 5.56...

>And then came the case of reliability. Sure, the M-16 could be made to work just fine, and often did. But it required too much maintenance, sometimes more than what a man could provide it in the field, and with engagements like this one it was only a matter of time before they started to get gummed up from lack of care with the constant engagements on full auto.

>"Sir... Where's Walker?" Carver asked, realizing he hadn't seen him since the fighting started, Burton barely hearing him over his screaming eardrums.

"Uh...I Uh..."
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>>31610523
i didn't hope for that ending, but i like it
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>>31610554
>>31610580
My body is ready
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>>31610580

>Burton shook his head, trying to get used to the sound of his voice from his muted ears.

"I put him on the east side...I can't have all the best men on the north, eventually they'll get smart and start looping around us...Have we got another radio?"

>He formed coherent sentences finally, looking at Carver, waiting for his answer.

>"S-Sir. I don't know sir." Carver replies, Ellie speaking up.

>"I saw a black fella in 3rd platoon with one on, sir. I don't know where he is now."

>Burton stops a second, hearing the female voice then realizing where it was coming from, shaking his head still in a daze.

"Carver. You think you and your Rifle can go find that Prick-25. If that radio's gone we're fucked until morning...and it's only 10pm."

>Carver nods, standing up as the Sergeant got to his feet, Shakily, but he was steady in mere seconds, walking out on to the street, past bullet impacts, acting like he'd totally been taken out of a life threatening situation and picked up his helmet.

>He glanced inside to make sure the photo was still there -- It was. He put the helmet on and moved to a nearby machine gunning team, his motions were slow and a lot less deliberate than usual, but he was alive, he probably just needed time to get it together.

>"You think he's okay?" Ellie spoke to Caver as he darted through the town, looking for the radio operator from 3rd Platoon, his voice was slightly disrupted due to his running, fading in and out through the heavy breathing and the motion of his body bouncing.

>"Yeah...He's too tough for that to stop him, I think. Looking at the way he went down his ribs are probably shot..."
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>>31610141
>Dave raised the knife and pointed at the beast, issuing a challenge. "AH NUUUU, CHEEKI BREEKI IV DAMKE!"
And so, man faced his most ancient foe, and challenged him in the old tongue
>MFW
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>>31610616

>The fighting was dying down a bit now as the NVA fell back, starting to regroup, giving the Americans time to get their shit together too, a group starting to dole out the Weapons from the NVA cache around the town, the LMG's mostly--and the ammo that corresponded.

>Someone was going around with a box of F-1 grenades, every G.I. He passed taking one or two, someone else doing the same thing with the store of 5.56 and 7.62 NATO ammo and rifles taken off the dead, another pair handing out ammo from the supply crates that came in with 3rd platoon when they dropped in.

>The supplies were getting extremely low apart from that.

>"This whole situation is FUBAR..."

>Carver mumbled, shaking his head some, Ellie responding.

>"Yeah...this is bad...what the hell is going on at command..."

>Carver sighed a bit, shaking off the defeatist mentality, hearing Ellie shout "There!" and stopped.

>There he was; laying on his back in a building with the wounded, his leg was broken and he had a gunshot wound on his hip...He'd fallen off a roof after that sniper hit him, but he was conscious and complaining.

>Carver jogged over to him, crouching down, speaking to man as he groaned in pain. "Does your radio still work?" Carver spoke, getting an angry response.

>"Fuck if I know, honkey can't you fuckin' tell I'm fucked up, shit."

>Carver had had just about enough of this fucking race bullshit from everyone, grabbing the radio operator by the straps, screaming at him.

>"DOES IT FUCKING WORK OR NOT YOU STUPID FUCK?" The rage coming from the glasses donned man surprising the wounded man enough to make him go totally silent.

>Carver curses under his breath, grabbing the handset and listening to it, keying it in and checking...it seemed to be, but no transmissions were coming in.

>The SGT would know better if it was functional. He started to pull the radio off the wounded man, putting it on himself and then headed out of the building without looking back.
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>>31610689

>A familiar and much missed voice reaches Carver's ears as he runs by, talking to him as Walker jogs up beside him.

>"Hey! Carva! I heard Sam--I-I mean Sarrent got shot...He alright?"

>Walker's voice seem stemmed with worry, news about wounded higher ups circulating pretty quickly given the current amount of men present.

>"Yeah he's alright...Got the wind knocked out of him I think." Carver replied reassuringly, Walker immediately letting out a long sigh of relief.

>"Sheeew....fuckin' had me worryin' ova here...Tell 'im we're all set up and good on the East...we cut the fucka's up real good when they tried pushin' out of the jungle."

>Carver nods, jogging off to Burton with the radio on his back, Walker turning and going back the other way, helping someone carry a box of ammo by grabbing the handle on the opposite side.

>The thought crossing Carver's mind that he was happy he didn't have to carry this damn radio outside of current circumstances, the way the antenna stuck out and gave him the definite shape in the dark of someone important made him nervous, really nervous.

>Carver sighed a bit, squeezing Ellie a bit tighter, speeding up his jog, running past a pair of marines trying to carry a dead countryman to a more comfortable resting place, stripping the ammo off of him once they get him there...

>They were getting ready for another attack, and if it was like the first, they wouldn't make it, not through this one...
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>>31610747

>Then the thumps started again from out in the jungle.

>Carver braced his eyes for a flare...then he heard the whistling, screaming along with the 10 or 11 other voices at the same time.

>"MORTAR! MORTARRRR! GET DOWN!"

>The first explosion went off, destroying the roof top of the building directly next to Carver, showering him in rubble and dust, another impact slamming down, agonized screaming filling the air between the whistles.

>Carver ran.

>He ran as hard as he could, a mortar striking down on the ground where he had been only seconds before, the detonation of the ordinance sending him flying...

>He was out of the kill zone but the shock of being literally slung into the air racked his body as he tumbled to his back, sliding a bit, clutching Ellie close as he rolled along the ground, shedding momentum, Ellie screaming.

>"ARE YOU OKAY!? FUCK! PLEASE BE OKAY!" She spoke in a panic, she couldn't see what happened to her owner.

>Carver choking as he responded, reassuring her.

>"...Yeah...I'm fine Ell's."

>Grunting a bit, he stood up, his leg hurt. Bad.

>He looked down, a bit of shrapnel stuck in his calf, blood running down his pant leg and into his boot. He hissed a bit as he limped his way into cover from the mortars still dropping.

>Carver bit down on his sleeve as he grabbed the sizable chunk of metal and pulled it out, screaming into the cloth, opening up his general bandage kit and wrapping his leg with it to slow the bleeding down a bit.

>He could still move but it was miserable.
>>
>>31610616
>>31610689
>>31610747
>>31610824
This is Korea, yeah? What timeframe of the war?
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>>31610868
'Nam dear, mid 68.

>>31610824

>The mortar striking lasted for about 10 minutes, the constant explosions making the men hunker down, covering their heads...Anything could be going on outside.

>The Dinks could be preparing for another assault, using the mortars for cover to get close...

>This was their final hold, and if there were much more NVA out there...they weren't going to make it.

>The thought of losing Ellie and ending up in a torture camp somewhere crossed Carver's mind, shaking it out of his head when he realized he wasn't going to be taken prisoner.

>If he was caught he'd probably be gunned down like a dog. If any of us were being taken prisoner it was Burton. As it was he and only one other SGT on the east side were the only people with any commanding knowledge, and Burton was far better at it than the SGT Carver had only run into once or twice.

>His name was Robertson or something...He knew what he was doing, but his commands were unclear, he seemed like he was unsure of what he was doing.

>Burton could give commands and make you feel like you were some kind of demigod for pulling them off. Even if it was something as simple as "Get me that radio."

>Carver smiled a bit, feeling a little ridiculous, if he kept going on about his SGT like this he'd sure as hell be seen as some kind of faggot by the guys.

>The dull blasts kept falling on the town, Carver hunkering down hoping everyone was okay, even though he knew a lot of them probably weren't the sounds of the pained screams he'd heard prior to being flung like a rag doll lingering in his mind as he held Ellie close, the Rifle switching to her human form quickly and starting to inspect his leg.
>>
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Also, my paste bin is up on the second post by the OP, if you're just now coming in to see this story for the first time. There's quite a bit to this one leading up to now.

>>31610888

>Concern was all over her face as she does a better job of wrapping it, packing it with some gauze.

>"This doesn't look good...it's really deep..."

>She fussed over his leg, wrapping it up with some bandages, the pressure on the gash felt better, like it was holding him together.

>"Hey Ellie..."

>He spoke to her, grabbing her and pulling her over to him in a hug while she was in her human form, surprising her.

>"I'm glad I met you. No matter what happens...I never thought you were bad luck." She gasped just a little bit, looking up at Carver, tears in her eyes, nodding.

>"I-I'm glad I was issued to you, too..." They kissed.

>Just for a split second, a fleeting moment of passion between two individuals stuck in a horrible situation, holding each other alone in the dark waiting for the mortars to stop falling, Ellie slipping back into her rifle form when the explosions stopped, speaking out.

>"We should get this radio to the SGT before something else happens..."

>"...Yeah." Carver stood up slowly, making his way out of the small hovel he'd dug himself into, cautiously exiting out onto the street as the marines that had taken cover all start to emerge from their cover, getting back to their firing positions in a flash.
>>
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>>31610952

>It wasn't until Carver was halfway to Burton's location that he heard it.

>That roar again...closer than the last one.

>They HAD been using the mortars to push in.

>The flares went up.

>Burning like 3 suns in the sky, the NVA had massed and were giving one final push. They were looking at the remnants of an entire company vs what was barely an entire Platoon's worth of men.

>Their scream was earth shaking, the spray of bullets and gun blasts filling the air as they ran.

>The battlefield lit up again, raging with a life all to it's own.

>This one was more savage than the first attack.

>Men were meeting each other with their bayonets, the screams from both sides blending together.

>Carver could see Burton about 200 meters away, coming out of a culvert under the town's main street, bashing a bayonet charging Gook with his rifle and putting one right through his eye, a few men coming out with him.

>Washington was right behind him, spraying with his M-60 as he walked like some kind of action hero, cutting down anyone that got close to the SGT, the group of them moving back to their former positions, starting to open up with the MG's they had mounted, throwing grenades, an M-79 barking again.

>It was all out hell on earth...then from the west. Gunfire exploded from the open field, men getting to their feet and sprinting through the loosely defended quadrant of the town. They had slipped around...no...

>This was another company. They had called in fucking reinforcements. The new company of NVA screamed as they fixed bayonets and started to charge into the town. This was it.

>It was over.
>>
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>>31611052

And I'm taking a break.

But I'm not leaving you guys hanging. No worries, 9/10 chance I'll be back in a couple hours to keep the ball rolling on this.

Ta ta now.
>>
>>31606023
>several hands of bullshit later, the two of you have gotten to know each other a little better
>she's got a perfect poker face
" say, you never have told me your name."
>"oh.. Uh.. It's Olivia.."
"Huh, pretty name for a pretty girl."
>she scoffs, but still blushes slightly.
>you decide it's time for refreshment, and begin to root behind the seat rack for your stash.
>you produce a bag of pretzels and a four pack of monster
>Olivia's eyes light up at the canned heart attack
>you can't turn down a fine lady like that, even for your habit.
>accepting the offered can, she cracks it and downs what must have been half the can in one go, without pausing.
>she then proceeds to have the most ladylike burp you've ever seen, covering her mouth with a hand
>"uh, excuse me"
>CUTENESS CAPACITORS AT MAXIMUM
>taking a drink of your own, you fumble in your pocket for a tin, and proceed to take a generous pinch
>"qu'est que c'est?"
>"is that Copenhagen? Would you mind?"
>slightly surprised she dips, you offer her a pinch anyway, and hand her a nearby plastic bottle as well.
>"I, uh, may have picked up the habit from the infantry.."

1/2
>>
>>31611142
>you are both startled slightly when the commanders hatch opens, and your favourite arty faggot yells "lights out bitch! We're getting forced rest!"
"Fuck off Malcoms!"
>"eat shit anon!"
>forced rest? You've been out for like, 17 hours maybe? Doing fuck all at that.
>whatever, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you unlock and upend the top hatch in the cre compartment, grab your valise, and pop back in, buttoning up.
"You catch that Olivia?"
>she spits into the bottle
>"yeah, sounds nice."
>you unpack and unroll your ranger blanket, and grab your neck pillow (that everyone gives you shit for but is comfy as fuck) from behind the seat, and ditch your tunic and boots.
>Olivia ditches her flannel and hat, setting them on the hull below the seat and proceeds to lay down.
"You sure you'll be comfortable up there?"
>"uh, yeah, thanks though anon"
>you reach up, killing the cabin light, and begin to doze off.

>maybe half an hour later, you stir slightly as a shape larger than you presses to your back and curls an arm around you
>oh.
>you're little spoon.
>after a moment feeling the nice, firm LMG assets pressing up against your back and her thicc thighs on your behind, you decide that's just fine.
>you pass out with a tuft of blonde hair in your face.
>>
>>31611156
>ywn be the little spoon to a waffengeist

why live
>>
>>31611228
>ywn have your QT Waffegeist steal your dip

Why live indeed.
>>
>>31611052
jesus fucking christ your'e quickly starting to become the master of the fucking cliffhanger.


it drives me fucking crazy. i want more nowwww.
>>
Im doing the Joiwsey Daevull story right now, its looking long already. Still into the buildup, so it may be awhile till i get dropping. Anyone else who may be waiting like falfag, dont wait on my account.
>>
Hate to ask but does anyone have an archive or cap of what part of the gun represents each part of the human body?
>>
>>31611430
It's mostly up to whatever you want the part to correspond to. If it makes sense to you, throw it in your writing and word in a way everyone else can pull the sense from it.

There's no canon way to do this, so have fun.

But the general rule of thumb is, hair is barrel length, hand guards are breasts, mag well / chamber is mouth, height is based on overall height of the rifle, et cetera.

Apart from that, run with it.
>>
so, I've been working on this story

basically it goes like this
there's a big fuckhuge supercontinent in super space not-earth, in the center us a vast desert, and everywhere around it is just grass and trees and shit except at the top where it's fucking cold and snowy

so basically the outside-y bits and the desert don't get along, some outsidefolk don't give a shit, some outsidefolk really fucking hate the desertfolk because of their sick resources and the fact that the desertfolk hold grudges against people who've tried to murder them and steal their shiny rocks


anyway, either one particular region or maybe a whole bunch of regions basically make a pact with supersatan and want the ultra turbospooks to go in and genocide the desert folk so they can go in and steal their shiny rocks, and at the same time, some guys searching for enemy tunnels accidentally find a big, fancy, undergound temple with a goddess that basically exists to be found and tell them "yo shit's about to get fucked"

the first part is about a bunch of dudes who encounter the ultraspooks first in a city that nobody's had contact with for a couple days, the second part is about a super turbo ultra top secret super battleship who gets in a fight with a giant waterblob that just absorbs its sick 22" shells, the third part is where a tank company accompanied by what is essentially a self-propelled nuclear howitzer goes to check out an area that's predicted to be the next sighting of the ultra super turbospooks
and that's all I've managed to come up with so far


so does any of that sound interesting?
>>
>>31611569
Write it faggot.
>>
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>>31603362

You can update it if you want. I don't think I'm going to continue. Thanks anyways.
>>
>>31611569
C'mon Fuckboy, this sounds appealing as fuck.
>>
Now begins the great Jersey Devil spoop dump. word says 15000 letters and im not nearly done yet.
>>
0600 May 8th, 2008

Eric didn't know why he was being activated.
He was National Guard, so why was he being sent to backup a bunch of forest rangers in “Preservation of Natural Wildlife”? He had certainly never known that such a activation code existed. What was he doing, tranquilizing some wolves to go to a reservation? If so, why did they order full kit and equipment?
Something didn't seem right.

0835 “

“Damn it, those pigheaded- don't they know how hot it is out here? We don't need full kit to go play third hand for some rangers! Fuck me, we're gonna get casualties just from the heat.” David, from Eric's squad, wasn't a bad guy. However, his penchant for complaining about the exercise and whenever they had to assemble definitely made him the shining representation of the Guard as far as the other 'real' branches were concerned. “Well, maybe if you kept up with your PT, you wouldn't be one of them, you whiny bitch.” Franky, the squads unofficial NCO, was an ex marine who had decided he wanted more to protect his country than make war for it. He wholeheartedly embraced the job and took it deadly serious, but was usually found cracking jokes with the other 'grunts'. He brought real battle experience to the team and tried to give it to anyone willing. Some, however, just had the job for the money and didn't care to learn… David for instance. “Hey, don't give me that crap, I didn't join up for this shit man!” “Shouldn't have joined up then.”
The laughter that followed was semi-forced, but still well needed. Eric wasn't the only one wondering what the hell they were going to be doing…
>>
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>>31612433
2130 “

It seems nearly a whole brigade of NGmen were activated, which both relieved and further worried Eric. David seemed content that enough other people were here that he could skate by without doing much with just a few excuses. “Hey Franky,” said Eric, “I thought we were just gonna go catch some endangered deer or some shit, but holy shit man… look at all this shit! Those are artillery tubes, and fuck, are those APCs? What the fuck are we doing out here?” Frank looked at him seriously and said, “Hopefully something important. Probably something we cant talk about afterwards. Definitely something they wont be straight about. Be ready for anything man.”

That response confirmed Eric's suspicions, and made him sure to get extra ammo.

0945 May 9th

The (now full) battalion of Guardsmen were assembled to be briefed on their mission. Eric had found no luck in seeing if anyone else know what the hell they were doing there, other than some saying it must be a drill since they brought serious hardware. They had no answer as to why everyone had brought live rounds though.
“Oh shit Sarge, is that a Full Bird up there?” Said Stevens, a fairly new guardsmen. “Oh, shit you're right...Fuck, theres a Maj Gen too! Get military boys, we got big brass in here.” Said Eric, standing a little bit straighter. “Yo, Eric,” said Franky, not bothering with the rank, “You notice something else?” “Hmm?” said Eric, looking back to the podium. Suddenly he saw what Franky did and his guts twisted up. “Oh fuck me,” said Eric, having also been an enlisted man, he recognized those stern faced, sun-glassed men in uniform suits. “Fucking suits… this is bad.” “Mmmhmm.” Murmured Franky from down the line.
>>
>>31612449
1000 “

“Ladies and gentlemen, I Know this is unorthodox,” addressed the Major General to the assembled men. “But we have a job to do here. There is an animal loose here that is a threat to the local ecology, and a credible threat to the local residents.” There were several seconds of curious whispers from the men. “I know you all have questions, but for the sake of national security I'll warn you I cant tell you what it is. Just that it isnt a normal animal, that you need to have eyes everywhere, and you WILL NOT be able to talk about this later.” This time, his pause was met only by silence from the crowd. They knew what that meant, and their brains were all abuzz with ideas on what waited for them in those woods.

None of them were comforting.

1509 “

They had apparently decided on a total coverage sweep deployment. Platoons were to be sent out into itersecting grid squares and deploy to sweep huge areas simultaneously. The problem with that was that as coverage areas got bigger, nearby manpower became less and less. So if you hit contact late into the sweep cycle, you better hope your radio doesnt shit the bed.

Sgt. Eric's squad was deployed with 4 other platoons to break off with one to sweep southwest, break off into squads along the way, and eventially break off further into individuals until they met friendlies heading the opposide direction. Eric's squad consisted of a butter bars 1stLT named Smithers with little real experience (but at least he listened to Franky and Eric, bowing to their supirior experience like a good 1stLT should), 2 PFCs named Sanders and Braves, a Specialist named Guadelupe Estehyeroso, Franky and himself. It would be a 9 hour march until they met friendlies heading the other direction, if they really booked it. This was gonna suck.
>>
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>>31612511
1927 “

The sun was beginning to set by the time they radio-ed into base that they were setting up camp for the night. They lacked NVGs and IR, so they had little choice. The dissapointed sounding response from base told him all he needed to know, no-one else had found anything either.
Eric dug himself a hole with his e-tool before bedding down in his woobie.
He went to sleep praying to god that they wouldnt be the unlucky group to make contact.

2120 “

Eric and several members of his squad shot straight up, weapons in hand as a scream fell upon their ears.

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH”

In was high pitched and unnaturally long, but several miles away from them. Unfortunately it was in the direction they were heading.
They radio-ed in the noise and waited several minutes for the radio oporator to check with the other teams. “Uh… well the squads near and across from you didnt hear anything, maybe it was just a bobcat?” Squawked the man on the other end of the radio. “No way.” Said Franky, “Yeah, ive been out in the woods before, bobbies dont scream that long.” confirmed Eric just before another similar scream sounded out.
“...Roger radio… asset 9-2 confirms possible local fauna. Over and out.”
>>
>>31612535
0658 May 10th

Very few men had slept soundly the night before. But after a a Jalapeño Cheese MRE, any enlisted man feels like they can take on the entire USSR single handedly. So Eric was cheery and alert the next morning after breakfast, being one of the first to strap his pack back on and get ready to move out, right alongside Franky.
“So, you thinking Jersey Devil?”
“Of course, what else could it be? And even if it wasn't, thats what it'd be called if the news found it. One way or another, we are looking for an urban legend.”
“Yeah.” replied Eric as Smithers walked up.
“Whatchu boys talking about?”
“Nothing sir, just whether we are looking for the jersey devil or sasquatch.”
“Hmmph, you too? I thought only the privates were susceptible to bullshit.”
“With all due respect, sir, they don't deploy a battalion of Guardsmen for a raccoon.”
“Hmmph...” muttered the LT as he walked back to get his pack and maps.
“He'll learn.”
“Yeah, he will.”

0928 “

The squad was making good headway, on the last stretch of their search. Only about half an hour away from friendlies if they had gone the same speed.
So of course, thats when shit hit the fan.
They heard massive gunfire from up ahead, like an entire squad lighting something up.
“Down and ready!” snapped Eric as he sank to a knee and picked a direction “Radio, call it in.”
“Roger Sarge… Base, this is Asset 9-2, we hear gunfire, multiple shooters, seems to be 4 to 5 miles out.”
“Roger 9-2, which direction?”
“Uh, its seems to be straight past our Termination point, Base.”
“Roger that 9-2... We cant raise Delta 4-6, proceed to Termination point and wait for further orders.”
>>
>>31612598
“Roger that base, Over and out.”
“Well, shit. Looks like we drew the short straw. Radio, advise our left and right of the situation in case we need them. Hell, radio their sister squads too.”
“Roger sarge.”
“Franky, your asshole clenched?”
“Shit, yours too?”
“Damnit, this isn't good.”
“Too right mate.”
The LT just looked back and forth at them, incredulous look on his face. “What?”
“You'll learn el-tee.”
“Whatever, lets move out.”
>>
>>31612607
1100

They had reached the RV point and taken up positions. It had been quite some time before radio called in.
“Asset 9-2, this is Base, we still cant raise Delta, have you seen them?”
“9-2 to base, not hide nor hair.”
“Well then… proceed on 15.2 degrees south by southwest. You'll be looking for them.”
“Roger base, request reinforcement by Bravo 4-8 and Romeo 5-6.”
“Ill send Romeo 5-6, but Bravo will be standing by until their sister squad meets up with them.”
“Roger Base, Asset 9-2 heading out. Will advise, over.”
“Roger asset… good luck guys.”
“Roger base.”

1328 “

Eric's squad had just met up with Romeo and was heading out.
“So whats going down guys? We heard you called for extra hands and that you were moving up, but no deets.”
“Heard a squad letting loose, sister squads gone dark and didn't meet up with us.”
“Shit. This is it then huh?”
“Almost certainly, but base wont be sending anything else our way until we make contact… or go dark ourselves.”
Guadalupe quickly crossed himself as they walked.
WHOOMP, WHOOMP, SNAP... CRASH
Both squads took a knee as they heard the noise.
“What was that sarge?”
“Dunno… sounded like wings maybe? And a tree falling.”
“Fuck...Fuck.”
“You said it. Well… this is us I guess. Asset, lets break left. Bravo, you go right. Call it as you see it. Any objections el-tee?”
“Uh… no, thats a good plan… uh… well lets go.”
>>
1334 “

“Got that tree over here sarge… maybe you should come take a look at it.”
“Roger braves, on my way.” said Eric as he headed over.
“Oh.”
“Right?”
The tree in question had been nearly a foot across, wholly health and green. And it had been snapped quite cleanly.
“Looks like impact force… fuck, are we looking for a flying rhino?”
“Fuck if I know sir.”
“Too right. Alright kid, lets catch up and tell the others, but theres probably no point radio-ing this in.”

After catching his and his sister squad's men up on what they had found, Eric found himself chambering his rifle and sighting up and to the north.
“What is it Sa-”
“FUCK?”
“FUCK!”
“FUCK.”
This very articulate conversation was about the figure hanging from the trees nearly 400 yards north from them. Even at that range they could tell that the creature was big, bigger than a bear. And it did indeed have huge, veiny wings, which it wrapped around itself, only the head visible, and very visibly staring at them.
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Came the terrible cry from the creature as it dropped from the tree and opened its wings.
“FUCK FUCK, ITS HEADING THIS WAY!”
>>
>>31612621
“NO SHIT, SHOOT IT.”
“RADIO, CALL IT!”
BRRRRRRRRRRRAAAMMMPPPHHHHHHH
All the combined 13 men (minus the radioman) opened fire with their assorted m4s, coverted ACRs and even an m24, all letting loose at the airborne demon making a beeline for them.
It didn't seem to mind that much about the regular rifle rounds, only being minorly effected when everyone hit it at one, although when the m24 cracked at it, it did seem to feel its more powerful .338 Lapua round… even if it was only an annoyance.
“FUCK MY FUCK ITS STILL COMING!!?!”
“AAAH FUCK ITS COMING FOR ME!!!” Screamed Guadalupe as the monstrosity zeroed in on him. “FUCK ME, ITS A DEMON!!” He shouted as it sweeped in on him, still being peppered by assorted rounds. “AAAHHHHH!”
It outstretched its wiry, yet well muscled arms as it swooped down, grabbing Guadeloupe by his thigh and neck, hardly slowing down as it flapped away. They saw what was left of him fall down in pieces mere moments after his screams were cut off.
“I GOT BRAVO AND BOTH SISTER SQUADS ON THEIR WAY, BASE IS ASKING FOR ARTY COORDS!”
“TELL EM WE'D RATHER GET CAS, THE FUCKER IS FLYING!”
While this was being shouted back and forth, the beast swung back around and flew off with a crying Smithers. His life ended with a 200 meter fall and a wet SMACK of an impact against some painfully sharp looking rocks.
“BASE SAYS 20 MIKES ON AIR SUPPORT, GAVE COORDS TO A CLEARING… TANKS WILL BE IMBOUND TO THERE WITHIN THE HOUR, ALONG WITH BIGGER GUNS!”
“ROMEO, TAKE LEAD, KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEADS DOWN AND GET US TO THAT CLEARIN- huWHOOMPH!”
Eric barely had time to register that the creature had zeroed onto him when he was shoved violently aside.
“Wha- FRANKY NO!”
>>
>>31612706
Eric had seen enough movies to know what had happened, and skittered like a crab around to grab both of Franks ankles and pull the weight out from under him just as a pair of scaly looking hands swept into where he, and then Franky, had been mere moments ago.
“FUCK YOU, YOU DONT GET OUT THAT EASY!”
Grinned Eric at the surprised looking Franky, who quickly returned the grin.
“You saved my ass, I could fucking kiss you!”
“If we make it out of this, you can fucking marry me and fuck my sister, bigger issues right now… ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING! MOVE YOUR ASSES!”

1400”

The highly motivated guardsmen had made amazing time clearing the two miles to the RV point, meeting and dragging along Bravo and their sister squad along the way. Themselves sensing the urgency and spotting the humongous bat-horse-demon trying to flit between the trees to grab them.
Once within the clearing, they set up position looking outwards and up, quickly digging themselves holes to take cover in.
“It doesn't seem to mind much about small arms,” mused Franky “Get small in those holes… if it comes in… make it work for it… we do have grenades.”
“Fuck me.” Commented Braves, “We're resorting to kamikaze bombing it...”
“Stow it braves.” Ordered Eric, “We don't need that shit, unfuck yourself.”
“Y...yes sir.”
>>
>>31612710
1415 “

It had been a long fifteen minutes, Sanders and the LT from bravo having to resort to their grenades when it flew in, seemingly immune to military grade assault rifles. It certainly felt those grenades though, and it didn't like them. After the second one, it had retreated to the treelike, eying them angrily.
Thats when they heard the deep WHUDWHUDWHUD of an approaching chopper.
Eric ran over to the radioman and dived into his hole “This is asset two one, approaching roter-wing, come in!”
“This is Beagle 5, approaching from 20 degrees south by southeast, looks like we are chopped to you. What do we got?” The voice of the Cobra gunship pilot responded lazily.
“We have contact with an unknown hostile creature, currently in the treeline to the north! Rifles don't seem to hurt it, grenades are just pissing it off. Do you have eyes on?”
“The fuck? You called in air support over a bear?” Chuckled the pilot, “No, not seeing anyth- hang on, what is that… switching to FLIR… WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???”
“Yeah, questions later, can you make it die for now?”
“...uh… Roger Asset, ill light him up for you.”
The confused cobra pilot did just that moments later, letting loose with its three barreled Gatling, knocking the creature off its perch and eliciting a screech, but little else. So the gunner decided to also let loose with several Hydra rockets AND a TOW missile for good measure. This pounded the creature into a crater, eliciting a cheer from the surviving infantry.
“Asset to Beagle, can you confirm the kill for me?”
“Haha, hilarious asset no way that… NOW WHAT IS THIS HAPPY HORSESHIT?!?”
>>
>>31612720
Eric looked over his hole to see the creature crawling out of its crater, shaking itself off, and leaping into the sky towards the shocked cobra pilot, all the while screaming out its black fury.
“NONONONONO FUCK!!!” Howled the cobra pilot as the demonic creature rose up to meet him, “THIS IS NOT FUCKING HAPPENING!” He screamed as it flung itself into the fuselage between the tail toter and the main body, cleanly breaking it off.
“LOOK OUT BOYS, WE'RE QUICLY BECOMING INFANTRY!” Laughed the co-pilot over the radio shortly before they slammed into the ground with thunderous force.
“FUCK. I need two volunteers.” Cursed Eric.
“For what sarge?” Asked braves.
“I need one volunteer.” Replied Eric, louder this time.
“FUCK!” Shouted Braves, angrily.
“Yo, ill go mate, gotta keep that kid alive.” Said Franky with a grin.
“Alright, get the pilot and or copilot if they're alive. Don't Dilly dally.”
“Yes sir.” “Alright.”
“What are you waiting for, me to cook you lunch? MOVE!”

1417 “

Franky and braves returned moments later with an unconscious pilot and a co-pilot who was grinning from ear to ear, arm obviously broken but still toting a familiar looking rifle.
“Get them in a hole and get yourself in one, its really pissed now. RADIO, TELL BASE THAT BEAGLE IS DOWN, IT HAD NO VISIBLE EFFECT ON TARGET, AND WE ARE REQUESTING FAST MOVERS AND HEAVY ARMOR, BOTH EXPEDITED.” Eric breathed deeply, before deciding further.
“Fuck it, tell the whole brigade to meet us with everything the Maj Gen can muster.”
“Sir?”
“Get to talking son. I seriously doubt we have all night.”
“R… roger that sir...”
Eric dived into the hole with the copilot.
“So, you saw that thing take that TOW, right?”
“Sure did, I fired it after all.”
“Well shit, looks like we'll be eating dinner with the murder-hobos of hell then.”
“Probably.”
“Got a name man?”
“Alvin Davenport. Friends call me Chopper.”
>>
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“Alright chopper, why did you have a Mosin on a Cobra.”
“Family heirloom.” Came the heavily sarcastic, yet cryptic reply.
“Well, it fires a hotter round than any of us have, mind if I take it up with me? I doubt you'll be much use.” Said Eric, gesturing to Chopper's broken left arm. “But I think you'll be all right.” He continued smoothly and straight-faced.
“Did you just… Here, take it. I like you man.” Chopper said before bursting into laughter.
“Thanks. Oh, right. Welcome to the infantry.”
He climbed out to the confused faces peering out of their holes, followed by choppers howling laughter. “He'll be alright. Get back in your holes.”
>>
>>31612798
And with that, we're caught up. Ill do more tomorrow if enough people give a shit.
But for now, im gonna go take a shit and go to bed. Maybe in that order.
>>
>>31612803
Shit's exiting yo. I'll look forward for more

And why the fuck does like all interesting writing happen when I sleep? I'm not a creature of the night ffs.

Also, I've started with ideas about the aforementioned ideas and it's all just going to be way too lewd, no matter what I do with it. You guys still up?
>>
A question relevant to what I'm writing, what uniform did the Swiss use from WWII up until the late '50s? Google's failing me, I can't seem to find any really good color pictures.
>>
>>31612818
I'm lingering.

Sporadically extending my shitfest.
>>
>>31612867
Fuck it, alright. Also, if anyone of you faggots have played "Racing" aka the greatest drinking game of all time, you're going to love this
>>
>it's saturday evening
>they have all promised you there will be absolutely no drinking before you get home
>after some bullshit extra work because of some stupid important customer and bullshit
>then again, you spend the entire day in a flashy as fuck Mercedes in a convoy
>but its still fucking saturday
>as you exit the car, you hear noises from inside
>the windows flash with a yellow color, and that is definitely gunfire
>looks like someone is going to spend the night in the water barrel...
>you open the door, but the sound is muffled by heavy mortar bombardment
>you don't have a mortar
>but you do have a decent sound system
>they have all made a pillow fort
>and are war movies
>as a P-51 dives end empty its load of HVARs at the poorly made tiger replica, they have still not noticed you are behind them
>"i'm home"
>absolutely fucking nothing
>then again, you shouldn't really interrupt someone watching SPR
>well, movie's over soon, so you go into your own room and change clothes
>the bed is a mess, again
>since the rifles stopped being, well, rifles this has usually been the case
>The credits roll as you enter the living room
>"look at that, it doesn't look like a warzone in here"
Oh hey anon, i didn't noticed you coming home
>"yeah, too busy looking at the mustangs? cant blame you. Anyway, you've all had food now, right?"
yes! there is some left for you if you want to have a little bite!

>you stand with Annie in the kitchen, eating delicious reheated lasagna
>"hey, what's up with the drinking by the way? I mean you guys seem kinda fond of it"
Maybe it is a new experience, it's also a little funny
>"so that's how you plan to spend the evening? make everyone drink their head off?"
if you don't want-
>"eh, whatever. It got kinda fun last time we tried that, right?"
>Annie blushes and leaves for the garage
>she returns with a considerable amount of drink
>"where the fuck do you get all this?"
Do you really think i am unable to make my own?
>"... not really, no"
>>
Jeez, I got bored and decided to write more... I've already basically doubled it, it's also not spooky anymore. I'm a little all over the place... it IS 6 am here, in my defence.
>>
>>31611430
Here yah go:
>Barrel: Hair (Barrel length associates with hair length)

>Sights: Eyes (Vision can be enhanced with optics, use of reflex and holographic sights aid with faster target acquisition

>Handguard: Breasts (Top weight distribution and handguard size influence breast size)

>Magwell: Vagina

>Upper Reciever: Upper Body

>Lower Reciever: Lower body

>Stock: Underpants

>Trigger Assembly: Part of her voog, associates with sensual organs

>Bolt carrier group assembly: The Head, also where memories are located

>Chamber: Mouth

>Height: overall rifle length

>Weight: overall rifle weight
But like >>31611464 said, it's mostly whatever makes sense to you. I have it all copied pasta since I knew anons later would be asking
>>
>>31613116

It's all good dude. You've got me wanting to write spooky after 'Nam ends.
>>
>>31613116
1435 “

The monster had just decided it wanted another piece of the infantry when Eric picked up the polished, well oiled mosin. Immediately a voice filled his head “Чтo вы хoтитe гpeбaный cyka?» it said, in a strong russian accent, filling his head with thoughts of cold winters and dry tasteless food.
«What?… uh… Ктo этo cкaзaл?» He replied, in weak, broken russian.
«Ha, american. Typical. Now, what do you fucking want you Limp Хaны пoвoд для cyки лoшaди.»
«Well fuck you too, commie. Right now all i want is that fucking monster dead!» He shouted, realizing that it was his gun speaking, despite the insanity of the thought.
«мoнcтp, you say? Show me.»
The sargeant did exactly that, peeking out of his hole with the ancient rifle shouldered, aiming at the demon.
«гpeбaный cyкa! What in gods name is that?»
«The monster.»
«Smartass american. Just like last guy. Well, i dont know if i can punch through his hide, but i do have an idea… sight on his head, ill do the rest.»
«Fine, whatever, im already fighting the jersey devil and talking to a rifle, might as well listen to it.»
Eric centered the rings on the head of the massive monster and waited intil it was facing him to fire.
Amazingly, his shot seemed to ring true, seeing as the creature staggered back, holding his face and letting out an earth splitting scream.
«What just happened???»
«I made boolit hit it in eye. Too bad it didnt go into brain. Whatever though, at least it hurt it.»
«Well… thats appreciated.»
«Da, da, is what i do.»
«Yeah… alright. Well, im goint to hold here till armor moves in, thanks again… uh… gun.»
«Sure, anytime. Oh and American?»
«Yeah?»
«Be having good luck.»
«Yeah.»
>>
>>31613155
1440 «

Eric didnt get too exited when he heard choppers in the distance, after all: they didnt have a stellar track record with this monster. But he did perk up at the sound of fast movers.
«Radio, whadduwe got?»
«Chinooks inbound with 6 m41 Walker Bulldogs, ac-130 giving support along with a whole fucking wing of a-10s sir!» He replied happily. «Base says get the fuck on the tanks, we are rolling back to the brigade FOB, a-10s will give rolling top cover and the Spectre will give periodic support… Looks like the Maj Gen took what you said to heart Sarge.»
«It does indeed. Fucking A, lets show those tank boys that we aint no slouch!»
«Sir yes sir!»

1443

The tanks were dropped into the clearing, the creature at first took offense to this, but quickly retreated under the combined fire of 6 pintle-mounted Ma Deuces and a metric assload of pissed off infantry. Once down and unhooked, the tanks took aim at the creature, it seemed unprepared for the unholy hellstorm that followed. 6 Bulldogs opened fire with their long, 76mm main turrets at basically the same time.
This did more that surprise the angry demon, it basically vaporised it.
Finally the beast was dead.
«Hot damn, fucking took long enough.»
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
«OH FUCK MY ASS WITH A ZIPPO, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE REAMING ME WITH A RED HOT TIRE IRON WITH THIS AUTISTIC INBRED HORSE DEMON SHIT!»
«Fraid not sarge… three more of em by my count.»
«FUCK!»
«Fuck indeed sir.»
>>
>>31613163
1550 «

The trek was slow, the tanks were smaller than MBTs, but still couldnt move much faster than infantry in these trees. And while their guns were big, and deadly, they couldnt hit these three demons, all flittering and zipping back and forth. The a-10s had done a good job driving them back over and over, but have still yet to connect, 2 who had dared to get lower and more accurate had been slammed into by the fucking monsters. The ac-130 could probably kill them, but they just kept moving, the gunner could never sight in a shot. 6 men had been pulled from the tank by them in attack passes, all before the roaring .50s could drive them off again. Morale was dropping, the men were losing hope. But they were really close to a batallion of NGman, being backed up by reservist army and marines, along with AA guns and SAMs, apparently the Maj Gen had decided to go public, and when the suited men had snuck into his office to 'dissuade' him, they had come out on stretchers, going straight to the ER.
Now the standing army had gotten emergency permission from the governer and the president himself to assist in the rescue of the National Guardsmen and, if possible, «The immediate and total destruction of those fucking monsters tearing through my men like wet paper.»
Of course, the media was skeptical, but they had been invited onto the FOB. «Hell, if we cant save those boys with what i brought in, then we cant do shit.»

1600 «

«Sarge, we're finally coming up on the base. They say keep our heads down and stay in a line.»
«The fuck do they have planned? Between speed and toughness we cant even hit these guys?»
«Sarge? Base said shut the fuck up and do as they said.»
«Fuck me man you werent supposed to relay that!»
«I didnt sir, but they think you're the LT, and they guessed you were bitching.»
«Hahaha, well whatever, relay to the column, stay in a line and get low on the armor.»
«Roger sir.»
>>
>>31613094
>she opens a bottle and starts to raise it
>"whoawhoawhoa, calm down now, you can't just drink, not when i'm here at least"
what do you mean?
>"drinking games, duuh"
>Lala and Amanda doesn't waste a second to listen to you
>Karoline wants to join aswell
>she is from germany, is somewhat slender, with very blond hair and gray-green eyes
>however some eyebrows are raised as Maxine wants to join
>Maxine looks like she is 15, that has been kinda ignored by puberty
>due to her very small size, she is allowed to 50-50 the home made vodka and cola

>then comes the discussion of what to actually play
>the idea of doing a warmovie thing when you have to drink every time someone from your home country dies can't be done since that would mean Karoline being unconscious after 25 minutes

>"hang on, have you guys played Racing?"
Racing?
>"it's the greatest damn drinking game ever, we just need two decks of cards, we should have that"

>Racing is at it's core a simple card game
>But because of the myad of rules and victory conditions that gets added after the various phases and segments of the game, it's kinda easy and slow to start with, but gets more complicated, complex and faster as time goes on
>But the greatest thing about Racing is the genius reward-punishment system. Winner of each small phase gets two chips, second get one, and the loser gets to drink. Several chips becomes an order, basically giving you the option to command anyone at the table to do anything, but the others has to decide how many chips you have to use
>it's also very fast, since the two opposing
players have to play their turns at the same time.
>it takes almost 40 minutes to explain everything, and that is eveing leaving out the additional rules that roll in later
>but the game is made to be slow at start, so everyone can learn while not being shitfaced
>but this is very much only in the start
>>
>>31613168
1623 «

Major General Grant was tired of bullshit.
He was tired of goddamn spooks trying to be spooks.
He was tired of surgical strikes that didnt even hit who he wanted dead.
He was tired of the media calling his army worthless and childish.
And he was VERY tired of the fucking monster demons killing his Guardsmen.
And right now, he had a way to vent his frustration, with a virtual blank check from POTUS's own desk. And he was going to cash it.
«How is the setup going?»
«Snipers are in position.»
«Air wing holding in position too.»
«Engineers say the SAMs and AA guns are gppd to go.»
«Good, good, how far out are they?»
«About a quarter mile, sir.»
«Hmm, it might be tight, but hell with it. Tell the bombers to start their drop. Total coverage. Tell the engineers to open up in 30 seconds, 30 degrees of inclination, SAMs to fire at visual contact, snipers should take aim, and fighters engage at will, bet stay on this side of the AA.»
«On it sir.»
«We wont be brought low after all this time, by a fucking myth.»

1624

«RADIO, WHY DO I HEAR CARPETBOMBING HEADING TOWARDS US???»
«The Maj Gen says he has a plan, and its going to get really loud before its over… and that we better be in a line.»
«Shit, what is he thinking… Grant was always a sharp guy, but i got no idea. Just make sure we are fucking LAZER STRAIGHT, alright?»
«Roger sir.»
«Alright.»
>>
>>31613223
1627 «

Eric's column exited the forest into the clearing surrounding the base, he was met by an entire line of AA guns and SAMs aimed just over head, the space between them occupied by prone infantry with McMillan Tac50 antimaterial rifles.
«Damn… i think we owe Maj Gen Grant a drink for this.»
And that was when the CAS opened up.
Maj General had an excellant plan: Cut off escape with old school b52 carpet bombing, which then pushed the devils into the FOB, where the constant AA fire kept them from getting the height advantage, and from the controlled position, the warthogs ran oblique sweeps as the SAMs homed in and the snipers took potshots.
The devils never stood a chance against such overwhelming firepower and genuine eagerness to destroy.

1700 «
It had been an exceptionally rough day, having seen the loss of nearly a dozen men, a cobra, and 2 warhogs. But they had made it, and killed all 4 of those impossibly tough creatures. The media had indeed dubbed them the Jersey Devils, and moaned about misuse of firepower. Of course. They had only seen what actually worked.
After they had chased off the reporters, Eric and Grant met to shake hands and buy each other drinks. Chopper and Franky also joined them, the former shrugging off his pain pills in favor of corn grain alcohol.
Turns out that keeping their heads and staying alive had picked them up promotions all around, Eric making the unprecedented jump from SSGT to Captain. Franky getting all the way to 2LT. Everything went far better than expected really.

AAAAAND we're done. Shitty ending i feel, but im none too good at those.
>>
>>31613181
>at phase 1, the scoring/punishment system is implemented
>at phase 2, orders can be issued
>at phase 3, additional victory conditions are added
>at phase 4, one can loose clothes instead of drinking
>at phase 5, even more ways to win and get cards back are added

>no one usually gets past phase 6 or 7.
>it is the end of phase 5 and everyone here is half dressed and/or shitfaced
>lots of thoughts that you usually not even dare think in a normal state of mind are very close yo being put into motion
>some of them may or may not have anything to do with Lala's (who is now down to only two pieces of clothing) tail
>must
>not
>lewd
>raifu
Anon, you ready?
>Karoline is looking t you, because you need to play your turns simultaneously
three
two
one

>you both slam a card each on one of the upwards facing decks

Chicane!

>Annie slams her hand on one of the decks, claiming it as hers
nononono, that was a threeee, a fucking threee
>Amanda is claiming Annie has fucked up, and she tries to defend herself
yeah, but that was a seven and other three under!

>a quick look at the pile of cards reveals Annies mistake. 3-knight-7-3, while she would have needed 3-7-3 (or any other X-Y-X combination) to make a chicane

>"last round of this phase then, meaning..."
>you burble a little bit, while looking at the little pad with notes
>"ahahaha, you loose those five points, have to drink, and that puts Lala in top again, and with another three chips"

OOOORDER TIME

>Lala stands up on her chair and shouts, nearly falling off
>she points at Annie
AAAND YOU
>the chair is wiggling like mad
ARE GOING TO HELP ME ASWELL

>Lala has been doing this all night. Instead of ordering people to get undressed or make them drink, she has told them to "help her"

AAAND WE ARE GOING TO DO IT NAAAAAAU
>she is holding two noose looking rope things in her arms, and waves them around like a madman

>your face is in the table and you are laughing your ears off
>suddenly, two powerful arms grab you
>>
>>31613257
>"hey Annie, whats going on?"
>Annie has grabbed you around your arms, rendering them kinda useless
>You are being blindfolded
>fuckfuckfuckfuck
>Your legs are grabbed aswell
>you make some symbolic resistance, but you don't want to kick anyone in the face
>After a little while, and Annie almost falling over a few times, you are thrown into something soft, most likely a bed
>they are actually speaking russian with each other, and while you don't understand jack shit, you can at least tell Lala is saying something
>just as you land, and are about to get the blindfold off, Annie sits down on top of your chest, pinning you in place
>your hands are pinned down and kinda hurting against the headboard made out of metal bars
>Annie is giggling like mad, and its all fun and games to you aswell
>until two pieces of rope are being tied around your hands, and attached to the metal bars
>"alright, whats going on now?"
>Annie giggles again
Bye bye anon
>"what the fuck?"
The door closes, followed the that iconic locking sound
>"uhh... whats going on?"
>another weigh on your chest, another one sitting there
>but its much lighter
>and there is lots of soft fluffiness moving slowly around further down your body
>"uhm, Lala whats going on?"
augh, you talk to much
>the weight over your chest is lifted, and the tail stops brushing against your pants
>"thanks, i was worr- mmmmppffff"
>a piece of slightly damp cloth is shoved into your mouth
>"mmmpft!"
>the weight returns, and you feel some moisture on you not very impressive, but still visible abs
You talk to much. But now you are all mine!
>she grinds her hips and and down your abdomen, slightly smearing out her lubricant
>"mmmpftmmmp"
shhhh, i'll take good care of you anon. You give too much attention to mama! you need to be with other girls aswell you know! Now, lets see what you have in here...

"mmmmmpffffft!!"

And this is where i have to leave for some hours. Sorry
>>
>>31613312
>damp cloth

She's stuck it in other raifu's mouths that night

also noooo come back you can't leave us hanging like this
>>
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Reading through Storm of Steel right now, someone on here recommended it months ago and I finally picked it up. I'm about 2/3rds of the way through.

Initially I was worried I wouldn't enjoy it as it was marketed as more of a collection of memoirs than a novel, but Junger really had a knack for writing great prose, despite it being based off of his memoirs. It's got some terrible moments in it (Mainly artillery bombardments and their early deployments) but some hilarious dark humour involved too, something I thought impossible from a German. As a Brit it's really interesting seeing the war from the German side, without either side being demonised. Junger was a professional soldier.. Would recommend.
>>
>>31613325
>She's stuck it in other raifu's mouths that night

...what? I'm not exactly sure what either of you mean is going on
>>
>>31613362
Lala has been fucking other raifus in the same manner is what I'm implying

Also anon gonna get raped
>>
>>31613373
I honestly just think ATannie implied anon was force fed Lalas underwear, but okay
>>
>>31613615
oh

well now that I think about it
>>
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>>31613312
>Light Bondage
>With a fluffy kemonomimi waffegeist
>Locked in a dark room
>>
Right, i'm back

>>31613869
sure it isn't too lewd? Because it's really only going down from here
>>
>>31613225
i enjoyed the story overall, but if you want criticism, the ending was probably the weakest part. given that the story was entertaining and exciting, that's not really an insult. also do you want this archived or no?
>>
>>31614039
Yeah, I think we're cool for smut as long
As we don't post lewd photos, because blue board only applies to images for some reason.
>>
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>pile all 5 JT segments into one google docs document
>its over 100 pages and and almost 40k words

has it gone to far?
>>
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>>31614143
not far enough
>>
>>31614130

well, i know the rules are okay with lewd writing, i'm just not sure if you guys like it or not
>>
>>31614143
just see how far it can go

>>31614130
you have the c8 stuff saved or does it need archived?

>>31614151
we like it.
>>
>>31603668
Man here, I-I do that s-sometimes
>>
>>31614151
I'm fine with lewd writing, but I'm kinda not liking the idea of the other rifles getting in on anon's dick.

Kinda felt like he and Annie were gonna be the item, not him and his harem of rifles.

Up to you though, you're the one writing it.
>>
The box shifted. Breaking her reverie as the dust swirled into hurricanes. Her ears perked, the soft light spilling out of the crack glinted off of her wet eyes. The box fell with a crash, making her flinch. No one else up here moved, even the dust seemed to hang in anticipation. Her ears twitched, mouth slightly agape. Her breaths sent tiny swirls of dust spinning through the space.

The door pushed open. Great clouds of dust swam through the still air. The warm light framed the figure as they hauled themselves up into the space. They stepped over towards the tiny, dust and grime filled window. Smiling the figure turned, now silhouetted by the dirty light flowing through the window. They hummed, humming as they moved. Seemingly dancing through the cluttered space. Picking up a dusty old rifle sitting in the corner, tutting and placing it back down carefully. Turning again, the dust spinning around their hair gracefully.

She saw that it was a woman. The woman moved again, crouching down by the tear tracks in the dust. She saw her, her smile as she stood. She flinched as the woman placed her hand on her. The woman just smiled again, humming away as she lifted her up. Carrying her down out of the trap door.
>>
>>31614281
>but I'm kinda not liking the idea of the other rifles getting in on anon's dick. Kinda felt like he and Annie were gonna be the item, not him and his harem of rifles.

fuck, i thought that aswell. That's what i meant with "impure". But i've gone too far to save it now i think

fuck what have i done
>>
>>31614172
>c8 stuff
not c8 but i've been pastebin it, by the way m8 are you the same anon that had the doom guy stuff?
>>
>>31614293
Part Three of below

>>31605929
>>31606453
>>
Dipping my feet on the water here, might be grabbing on the bandwagon too hard. a slight manifestation of my operator fantasies.

Some undistinct day late in 2016. You find yourself in front of a computer again, switching tabs to a 4chan thread that you have been following for the past few days, then back to a singleplayer bot gameplay of Battlefield 2.

Rainfall has forced you to seek the relative comfort of an airconditioned internet cafe, an escape from the humidity and the surreal imagery of neon lights amidst the precipitation. It was past ten, having gone on two hours browsing the computer's single player game catalog. The thread just reached the post limit, and it went right to the archive. You decided to call it a day for shitposting, and so you started up GTASA for old time's sake.

Halfway through the loading screen, you hear an unfamiliar staccato. Pop pop pop, then you hear car horns, screaming, and the characteristic sound of bursts of 5.56. Curious, you decided to head down the first floor to make sure that it wasn't just another customer playing an FPS too loud on speakers. A few steps, and you see the security guard aim his service revolver at the door.

>blam blam
>tacatacatac

He goes down as a man in full tac gear enters the door and screams in broken english for everyone to get down on the floor.

Fuck. This was it. /k/ warned you, and you didn't listen. Or was it?
>>
>>31614363
alright, i'm curious
>>
>>31613163
FUCKING GUARDSMEN GET OUT
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
>>
>>31614317
Yep. been saving some of the more random things i don't see pastebins for. So long as its being saved somewhere.

>>31614293
please tell me this is a happy ending and not akin to the grandfathers rifles greentext...
>>
>>31614302
Not too late, could have one of the other rifles come in and stop it, or have anon get a hold of his senses and stop Lala by making her feel bad about it or something.

Or let it happen and then come morning, everyone involved realizes what happened and they somehow fix it.

Fuck if I know, anon and Annie are my favorite pairing in these threads.
>>
>>31614454
>Fuck if I know, anon and Annie are my favorite pairing in these threads

i-i can save this...
>>
>>31614451

Nah, fuck those shitty copy pasta's. Happy ending will probably show up eventually
>>
>>31614451
im that anon that mantains/made the sticky, here is a list of the pastebins http://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek, if im missing one just tell me
>>
>>31614363
You know that shit's fucked, but you know that it is not the time for fear, even though you are near pissing yourself from the cold air and the shock of what you just seen. Up back you went, and you proceeded to tear out of your bag the thing you have worked on for the past four months.

Well, actually it was parts of it. It was a takedown .32 caliber bullpup Caselman air machine gun. Sure you have endured two weeks of carrying it around in your bag, and you almost decided to leave it home earlier in the morning, but those thoughts were soon replaced by the frantic screwing down of the barrel nut and the hissing of an open gas regulator. All 1800 psi of air goodness.

You soon notice footsteps heading up the stairs as you stare at a fellow patron whose gaze froze at the man who was done assembling a 20-inch lead slinger. Fuck it, you murmured under the blare of a pair of speakers playing a certain Macintosh Plus track. You raised your creation at the assailant's face, who never expected he would face demise on such a puny device.

>chic chic chic

The sound of the air regulator went along the familiar rhythm of the best of vaporwave, as lead flew over several stalls and into the man's relatively uncovered face.

>make a move...

The song went as you went closer at the man's body. You thought it was a miracle that your gun did not only manage to penetrate, but also dealt a swift death.

Your view shifted over the man's shoulder, a glance on his patch confirmed your fears.

Emblazoned on his uniform were yellow stars on the upper left corner of a red field.
>>
>>31608973

French fries covered in gravy and cheese. It's only the best thing to ever come out of the Soviet Republic of Canukistan.
>>
>>31614540
is a continuation of
>>31614363
might continue tomorrow, it's late, and I don't want to miss the semi-maiden launch of an RC hovercraft i made so my clearance would get signed by the dean.
>>
>>31614483
I figured it'd be a ways down the road, but thank jesus

>>31614490
C8 : http://pastebin.com/HLu19bQJ
Chiappa: http://pastebin.com/mHYZPDxW
Loving Shotgun: http://pastebin.com/9eM2fwqK
G11/Garandfag: http://pastebin.com/2nDwG567

none of these are my stories. C8 was written by C8, g11 was written by Garand, the others were anonymous. and i have saved the one i replied too.
>>
>thunk
>"mmmpfff?"
...
>"mpff?"
...
>she is lying on top of you
>not moving
>what is she doing?
>another few minutes pass by
>"mpff?"
>is this bitch serious
>all your focus is diverted to you hands
>can you untie these things?
>it takes a good 20 minutes and a lot of pain, but you manage to get you right hand free, and soon the left
>first off, get this fucking thing out of your mouth
>you decide not to find out what it actually was, and the piece of cloth is discarded
>there is very little light in the room, but she does look very peaceful
>she is wearing absolutely nothing, so you wrap her in some blankets and put her in a somewhat comfortable position
>this is after cuddling the tail and ears a little, of course
>you attempt to get dressed, but you are once again out of t-shirts since the girls have grown fond of them
>bare chested it is, then
>...and it looks just like last time it looks like a warzone
>very strange sounds are coming from your guest bedroom
>you want to have a piss, but it feels bad doing that with a passed out 15 year old lying in a pool of her own vomit just next to you, in the bathtub
>somehow, you feel that the best thing you can do is just put the shower on and drench her in water
>well, it does get all vomit away
>you cant find either Karoline or Amanda, and you guess they are most likely the source of the strange noises
>what did that guy from lethal weapon say? "i'm getting too old for this shit"? yeah, it feels like that
>you head into the kitchen
>Annie, god bless her, is trying to clean up, but she is so shitfaced she cant even stand up
>"hey annie"
anoooon... privyet!
>not sure what the stuff with Lala was about, but she fell asleep
she's such a cute girl you know... hihihi
>well, i'm not quite sure i like what was going on, you know
why?
>"you know what, just stop cleaning, lie down on your back, and i'll fuck you until i go unconscious"
y-you don't like Lala?
>"not as much as you. But really now, are you going to pass?"
hihihi. no
>>
>>31614895
The power of alcohol saves the day.

You're the best mate.
>>
>>31614895
nice save m8
>>
>>31612818

Many of the writers in these threads are Euros.
>>
She'd shut her eyes. It had just been so bright. She heard the thump of the ladder and the hum of the woman. She dared a breath, the air was just so clean she did all she could to stop from coughing. Despite having her eyes shut, everything seemed so bright. It made her eyes water. Stairs. She remembered stairs, they always seemed to creak. Whether you were creeping along or bounding down them. This woman took careful measured steps. Every step echoed a creak. It made her ears twitch.

She was placed down on a table, gently. She could feel the cloth on her back yet she did not open her eyes. She could still hear the woman humming. Opening cupboards with a squeak. Setting down objects with a thump. She flinched again at her touch. The woman's hand withdrew again. "Alright." She said into the dead air. "What's your name?"

"L1A1. No. 2247." An automatic response. Something she'd uttered a thousand times without thought. She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Knowing now that she was being seen properly. Not like the others who'd stayed up there. She heard the woman shake her head. "No silly. Your name. Will it help if I tell you mine?" Her voice was quiet. Lilting as she spoke. Musical almost. She nodded, hearing the woman shift slightly in her chair. She imagined her smiling. "Katie. So, what's yours?"

"L-" She hung up on the sound of her own voice. Something she hadn't used for a time so long she'd forgotten since she last used it. It sounded dry. Rusty. "L-Laura."

"Laura huh? That's a nice name."
>>
>>31615055
I like to be an internet tough-guy as much as anyone else, but I'll happily admit I am a massive crying bitch for happy endings.

But this is your story, you are the captain of this ship. I'll be along for the ride
>>
>>31615163
Writing depressing stuff is well... depressing. And depressing stuff is depressing which is you know. Depressing. Being depressing is no fun. Writing depressing stuff just kind of makes you depressed. Which is something I try to avoid.

I think I used the work depressing too much in that but whatever. Happy endings are cool and shit. Will probably happy end this
>>
>>31614143
Girl, I can already see a story waiting to be published
>>
>>31615291
>story
Meant a light novel, would buy/10
>>
>>31614302
>Implying one wouldn't have a harem of firearms
Do you even polygamy?
>>
>>31614470
No, go forth with what you originally intended
>>
>>31614075
Do as you do archivefag, I'm not writing for a Pulitzer. If you think it is worth archiving then have at it.
I just wrote it to bump and couldn't figure out how to end it without an all out JD vs NG war.
>>
>>31614401
I prepared for you, and I made the devils autisticly scream long before you had the chance.
And is it worse to be a guardsman, or a miliweeb civvie?
>>
>>31615190
>depression
You called?
>>
>>31615448

Not intentionally :P I'm just not too sure which direction I'm going with this
>>
>>31615356
Got it, will add. Understandable, as endings are usually the most aggravating parts to write. Sill enjoyed it a lot man.
>>
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>>31614075
Actually, I might still salvage it as a "they dint git em all" pt 2, but that's if anyone actually gave a shit, I can go hogwild too, posessed ptrs, bears using small unit tactics, a marine DS killing a man with just his cold stare... anybody who wants a crazier part two birthed from the insanity of 3 day long insomnia, say Harambe.
>>
>>31614490
adding two more.

L1A1 : http://pastebin.com/sCgZk6Nc
Jersey Devil by dudebroguy: http://pastebin.com/E7Fv7x42
>>
>>31615483
>endings are usually the most aggravating parts to write

I already know how my story is going to end. But there is a lot of things that are going to happen before that

>if I live that long
>>
>>31615515
Goddamn you're dark. I love it. Try not to die, im holding you to the fluffy hair you know.
>>
>>31614895
boo
>>
>>31615498
harambe.

>>31615515
You better live that long dammit. We need a fluffy on k, and your writing is excellent. as a complete stranger on the internet, i do actually hope you survive this shit. That would be one hell of a major cliffhanger though.
>>
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>>31615515
>if I live that long
>implying you're not gonna make it
>>
>>31615572
>>31615593
>>31615543

Whoa, I'm not gonna go just yet. My dad may or may not have been a faggot but he didn't raise a quitter. Sit tight

I'll shut up now, I'm flirting with attention whoring
>>
>>31615688
I think more people are flirting with you than anything else here.
Any more of best tankfu today?
>>
>>31615753
i won't make a wall, but maybe as a few single posts
>>
>>31615833
When will you upload the google document? Any plans on publishing it? You'd make a great light novel
>>
>>31615863
i'd have to proof read it, give anon a name and fix all the formatting i think. I dunno man. Then again, it would be cool to have a light novel.

don't hold your breath for it, i'm going to have to go back to work next week. because i get the cast off my arms, so my time will be more limited

the again, i started doing this shit just because i was bored and was seriously pissed off at various tank games, so i decided to write something, so it might happen
>>
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>>31615887
I'll be waiting then, have a cute fluffy as a token of appreciation
>wouldbuynovel/10
>>
Revenge... Vergeltung...

"Hang on now, i recognize that word i think, wasn't that those missiles that were sent towards london?"
>Vergeltungswaffe? Yes, it literally means "retaliatory weapon"
"sure you want this thing to be associated with what was, well pretty much terror weapons"
>...as a terror weapon, they were pretty bad honestly. Compared to the stuff Boeing was making-"

She starts shuddering

"whoa, are you okay?"
>s-sorry. But the sound 5 millions horsepower makes with the sole purpose of killing an entire city, there is no hiding. You cant hide from all those bombs. And there is no god left to pray to. i was so sca-

This girl is going to turn you into a wehraboo...
But you are lift with no option to embrace her

"shhh, none of that is going to happen now. There are no more fortresses in the sky, and no thunderbolts or bad weather will strike from a clear sky"

She remain quiet, and slowly turns your shirt wet with her eyes.

"Right. Revenge. But this time, for all of earth, alright?"
>one round at a time...
"okay, but for now, i'll help you do the painting, because you are a lot better with a Machine pistol than you are with a brush

She lets out a little laugh through her tears

>no one is perfect, mister talk in your sleep

You decide not to mention her drooling, and get yourself a paintbrush and give each litter a half-inch black outline. It takes some time, not only because of all that has to be painted, but because the parts on top had to be painted upside down, while hanging down from the vehicle.
Several hours later, you complete your work with the Unit insignia of the "six-fifty-third heavy tankhunter Battalion". Those words had some serious weight behind them, regardless if it is spoken in German or English. It sounded powerful.

You jump down and inspect your work. It looks a little ragged because the old paint id in bad condition. The silver-grey places where the pain was chipped off almost look like wounds, with the writing filling them in
>>
>>31615508
Yo Archivefag, i think we should come with a method to archive this bins, 'cause some of those bins i've alredy pasted them, if you have an idea hit me with a PM on pastebin
>>
>>31616176
I'm too much a college poorfag to pay for pastebin (won't let me message people). I think easiest way to split it, given what you have listed there, and the fact that I'm mainly here in ak, i'll watch for anons and random shit like that as well as Doom and C8. If you'd prefer i can take some of the named anons, but many have pastebins, so i figure ill just act as an emergency backup at the least.

Really I'm fine with any method you see fit though.

i also have the most recent ptr stuff if you want that.
>>
>>31616326
>i'm mainly in /ak/
what if you give me a hand with /ak/ stories, i'll take the named writefags and with the anons on either thread, first come first serve?
>>
OP here, nice to see everyone's still going strong with writefagging. Stuck at work for another 5 or 6 hours, double shift. Will bake fresh bread for you all when I get back.

Maybe 5 hours from now, archivefag and polybus, post what you got saved? I'd appreciate it.
>>
>>31616161
What the new paint does achieve is making the vehicle even more menacing. Not as if it was lacking presence, but this makes it even better.

Lily is sitting on a rock next to the vehicle and emptying a small water bottle. Painting is hard work, apparently.

>are we going in to get some food now?

this damn cafeteria...

"nah, stay here, i'll fix you something"

Fuck it, today was the time for a bit of innawoods lunch. Well, it's not actually in a forest, but you were keen to give her something else to eat. That factory Nibelung-something was in austria. While your knowledge of the surrounding world maybe isn't the best, you find two cans of food in one of the storage boxes, and get the field kitchen out.

"i'm making you lunch today, just the two of us"
>aww, aren't you the romantic one?
"well, this is still just two tin cans, and we have neither a table nor chairs, but-"
>less talking and more cooking. please?

You had removed the labels on the cans before you started heating them, to try to make the contents inside a secret for the time being. You have poked a few holes in the top of the cans, just enough for you to stir around a bit with a spoon

"yeah, all done now. Remember to wrap it in, because the can is hot as hell"
>still no telling me what it is?
"well, the Niebelungenwerke (you nailed the pronunciation because you spend five minutes on google translate earlier) was in Austria, right?
>...yes?
"so i made you some Goulash"

Lily smiles a warm deep smile and starts laughing


>dummkopf...
"have i done something wrong?"
>Goulash is Hungarian, silly

Fuck

"i, erm-"
>don't worry, i like Goulash, but it kinda needs some seasoning

She smiles to let you know she is honest, and you both dig in and eat with great appetite. But you cant waste all day talking on the cold gravel, the cars have to be prepared.
>>
>>31616399
Works for me. I can either submit links in wfg, or i might just make an archivefag throwaway email for this, which might be easier.

ah screw it, [email protected], because apparently archivefag was taken.
>>
>>31616445
>http://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek

Updated as of 2:15 -6UTC maybe you'll need to make 2 post, with the help of archivefag this sticky is getting long
>>
>>31600950
His armband says "Soomusrong", which means armored train. He's an Estonian.
>>
>>31616462
First off, fuel. For the Mercedes, it has a just over 20 gallon fuel tank. Given specifications is almost 35 miles per gallon. But those figures are usually for an unloaded car. So, you have to count as low as 25. and you have to count on at least 600 something miles. But you have to count on 700 for redundancy. Some quick maths gives you 28 gallons. One full jerry can contains just over 5 gallons. So, a full internal tank and an additional two jerry cans should be more than enough.

The Volvo is a bit easier on the fuel, but god knows what has been done to that engine. But still, another 10 gallons in jerry cans are carried along

Lilly happily tells you about how the jerry can is the best fuel container ever. How the slanted filer cap makes it easier to fill it up and fill up other tanks, how the three handles makes it easier to carry it, regardless if it is full or empty, how the cross shaped cutout makes it stronger without increasing weight. She's so proud of it she even forgets to carry them. Funny how that works.

You even have enough time to install a pair of extra headlights on the Volvo because the one it had now were very bad. Maybe not the prettiest installation ever but it works. You once again get reminded why you decided to be a mechanic to begin with. Because this is fun. After some time, the old car starts to speak with you. What it needs, and how you can help it. And it's almost like IT told you to install some rubber mudguards because you might have to drive on dirt roads. That is however a very easy thing to install, merely needing some zip-ties and a bit of rubber to fix. You have spent a few hours in the garage now, you working with the cars and Lily mostly keeping you company and passing you the odd tool. Somehow it felt like this was something you have been doing for half your life. It just felt... right

>hey, sun is about to set, time to gather up the gang?
"yeah, i'm all set"

She extends her hand towards you

>come!
>>
>>31614143
KEEP FUCKN GOING FAGBAG, also dont forget to link it here, youre writing is delivious and good time waster
>>
>>31616774
> After some time, the old car starts to speak with you

inb4 volvo milf geist
>>
Can somebody post the pastebin for the m1D story? Or at lest th pastebin for it?
>>
>>31617029
if your talking about garandfag when he gets with garand after killing a bear, its in ak. will add to archives though.
>>
>>31617029
nevermind, its up already.
http://pastebin.com/55tZSyAB
>>
"You can open your eyes you know, Laura." Laura heard the warmth in Katie's voice. Opening her eyes a crack she shut them back up immediately. Brighter than the whitest snows she'd seen. A tear tracked down her cheek, dripping onto the cloth which prompted a tut from Katie. "Just how long have you been up there?"
"I can't remember." Laura muttered. Her voice sounded so alien to her, something from a dream, or a nightmare. "I can't remember..." A broken whisper. Spilling out of her lips slower than the dust that swirled.

Katie touched her arm. Gentle, warm. It made her flinch none the less. "Do you know what happened to the others up there?" She shook her head. "Like that when you got there?" A nod. "I see. You've been up there a long time, do you remember what you did before?" Again. The tiniest of nods, another tear welling on her eyelashes. Katie gently took her hand, she didn't flinch this time. "You don't have to worry about that anymore. Alright? I'm going to give you a nice clean okay? It's probably been a while since you've done much but sit in that dusty old attic." Katie smiled, even if the rifle couldn't see it. "We're gonna head out tomorrow, shoot the shit. Talk. That okay?" She nodded. A small puff of dust falling out of her short hair.
>>
>>31617216
:3
>>
>>31616774
She really does like physical contact, and doesn't really go anywhere no without being carried or holding your hand. Once again, you don't really mind. Her hands are small and soft, yet surprisingly powerful

>are going to bring that russian gun tonight?

She refers to that old AK with a milled receiver you've had for a while now. It has had a folding stock , most likely fitted somewhat recently, since it is in much better condition than the front handguard which consists of a wooden lower bit, and a dark painted ventilated steel bit on top.

"i'm not sure. It can be a bit hard to conceal it if we are stopped"
>nevermind the guided missiles we have on board If we get stopped, we're fucked anyway, just make sure you cant see the gun from outside and we're golden.
"suppose you're right, yeah"

Your AK is inside the vehicle, where the ammunition should have been, if you had any. You open it up a quickie, just checking it looks alright, jerk the bolt back and forth a few times, just to see that everything is alright. It is. You want to dress as civilian as possible, so all mags apart from the one loaded into the gun. The M9 is placed in its holster, and you feel its time to get the others. Lily is already outside, playing around with the MP.

"let's check in on Miranda, shall we?"
>alright!

Miranda is ready to go, and this is the first time you have ever seen her with a weapon in her hands. It's one of those kinda space age looking 9mm carbines, a Baretta CX4. Not much of a weapon maybe, but its a light gun, and Miranda isn't very big.

In silence you walk towards the IS-3. But about two vehicles away from it you hear screaming. Angry, drunken screaming.

'and where do you think you are going, you fucking whore?'
¤ l-leave me alone
'i asked you a fucking question, answer me bitch!'
¤ i said le-

Natalya coughs and whimpers.

>did he just kick her? yes he fucking did

Lily moves the charging handle to the ready position
>>
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>>31617428
>>
>>31617428
"calm the fuck down, you can't shoot him here"
>we have to help her dammit!
"by killing her crew? great idea!

Actually those three guys are a waste of blood and organs, but this is one of those problems you cant solve with gunfire, at least not here

>fuck it, i'll distract them, you get in behind

You manage to get a hold of her arms as she is about to get up

"normally, i would trust your skills as an actress, but you are fueled by nothing but rage now. You go around and for the love of god, only shoot him if he tries to do anything to you. Mini, you follow her.

Lily looks very angry, bust she listens to you.and drags Miranda along with her, sneaking around the scene as best the can. You swivel the AK to your back, trying to avoid conflict as much as possible.

'you know what, i've had fucking enough of you, you fucking slut. thinking you're all great huh? this is my fucking tank, i worked on it for a god damn week and i could fix the problem, and you just fucking poke it, and it starts. I'm starting to think you're a fucking witch'

Shit. This is about to go too far. You try to approach the situation as casually as possible, just as if you were out on a walk

'maybe there is fucking magic inside of you, witch? maybe i have to get in to see for myself?'

He takes up a very large knife, and pins her to the ground with it. missing her flesh with less than an inch. this tell you Lily is not in position, because if she was, that man would have his entire back riddled with 9mm holes

'so where do we go in first, witch? here?'

He puncher her hard in the stomach and she is struggling to breathe

'or down here? i bet you will-'

And at that point you couldn't sit idle here anymore

"hey, i heard some noises and... wait, whats going on here?"

You are presented with a .45 pistol pointed towards your face

'Why the fuck are you here, trying to take my bitch away from me? why don't you go back to fucking your little nazi whore? Or i am goi-'
>>
>>31617647
This is as far as the man gets before he is hit with full force from a track tension tool. In this case, it's a large, 3" long metal rod. It is much heavier than a baseball bat, meaning it is pretty much useless as a weapon, unless the opponent is unaware. Like having his back turned towards the thread for instance. The force of the impact throws him of balance and sends him flying to the ground. Before anyone has had a chance to intervene, the man's head is hit once again, this time while being supported from the ground, leaving it nowhere to go. It is instead squashed by the force of the tool. Miranda manages to prevent a third swing by gripping the tool when it is way behind her back.

+y-you have to stop now, they can hear you!

Lily returns to her senses and rushes over to Natalya. Question is how badly she is hurt. She chokes, coughs and wheezes, but stands up, but still holding her left arm around her stomach. Her breathing is heavy and pained.

"are you-"
¤ i am fine. I can stand on my own legs

Her voice is very determined, almost angry. She looks over to her commander, who's head is a gushy mess, and then to Lily with a bloody iron bar in her hands

¤ my commander is... dead. By the hand of a Nibelung. Like it was always mean to be, no?
>N-natalya, i was only trying to-

Natalya goes up to Lily and does something very surprising. Lily is blushing like mad, and with her eyes wide open, looking a bit scared. Or even scarred

¤ only two left now, Nibelung.
"whoa, are you sure about this?
¤ They are supposed to protect me. Instead, the hurt me and damage the machine, so much so, that the commander of a german vehicle has taken pity on me. They are both inside the vehicle, passed out from drinking. But i cannot harm them. Lily, you are not only capable, but made to do that.

Lily nods, and climbs inside the IS-3, and slams the hatch closed after her. Tho muffled shots are heard, and she climbs out a few seconds later.

Her eyes are different now
>>
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i'm out now, and sorry if i was a bit slow tonight.

And by the way, whoever said that you cant drink your problems away has never tried grappa with sugar in it
>>
>>31618116
Any news?
>>
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>>31618156
news on what?
>>
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>>31618173
Oh sorry, I misread your post, thought you meant 'I'm out' in terms of a hospital related thing. Not "I'm Out" as in finished/leaving.

My baaad, I'm blind and just woke up at 6PM like the degenerate I am.
>>
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>>31618204
>I'm out' in terms of a hospital related thing

well, it wasn't meant to be, even if it is. Visit there tomorrow to fix another one in the line of my genetic imperfections. and i have to be there in.. ten and a half hours and i have to sleep aswell
>>
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>>31618271
Yeah, that's where I got confused, sorry dear.

Sleep well, and may you wake up to some more of my bullshit...eventually.

[I'm hung over, for those of you wanting something soon. It'll be a while.]
>>
>>31617166
Sweet thanks man
>>
>>31618633
no problem anon. its not like i have anything else to do with my time.
>>
Hrmph, where is PTR+H&K parts writefag? The story of a gun that is partly itself would be something great to tell
>>
>>31619484
http://pastebin.com/JY3jiKq4
>>
>>31619543
Thanks for the link, though I probably should have noted I read what was up already. Just wanted to know where the actual writefag is
>>
>>31619566
wait, I'm an idiot. The link you gave looks to be updated from what I read on the copypasta on the OP. Sorry, Archivefag
>>
>>31619577
no worries man. not the op. op for that is anonymous.
>>
>>>31619543

>That PTR story updated

thanks m8 i've added that updated version
>>
>>31619754
was gonna shoot you an email earlier, forgot too. np komrade.
>>
I was going to ask earlier, but did arms of side vet archived? and if so, did it end with anon following M1A into the shower? as that is where my copy ends.
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