/wfg/ Writefag General - 'I'll Do It Myself' Edition

>>31773518

FALWritefag
>Argentinian Rose
>Rifles of 'Nam (on standbay)
>Pale King's Disciple (ongoing)(updated)
http://pastebin.com/u/Falwritefag

ATannie (ongoing)(updated)
>Anon gets an AT random Mischief ensues
>Rhinno 2.0
http://pastebin.com/XbWjWNQM

[[ATannie Part 1 pic related]]

JtFag
>Ayys attack earth, old school tanks are last hope (ongoing)(updated)
http://pastebin.com/1qS4EqXS

Guard
>world building(NOT A BASELINE)
http://pastebin.com/233BFr42

AngryHayseed (ongoing)
>Some 40k related writefaggotry
http://pastebin.com/Jy6K92kt

HiPointHomie (on hiatus)
http://pastebin.com/eBS29hA2

Vepr 12
>Hotline Waffegeist series (ongoing)(updated)
http://pastebin.com/u/Vepr12

AnonRhino (completed)
>Lil'Chiappa
http://pastebin.com/JFGrpdjP

kragfag (ongoing)[give me a better subtile]
>anon finds that a Mongolian knitting board was right
http://pastebin.com/D6ZFXMz3

Anon-kun
>L1A1 Parts Kit+Arms of side+just another day
http://pastebin.com/KH5XxAZG

PTRfag
>Light My Fire (standbay)
http://pastebin.com/JY3jiKq4
>NOT CANNON ENDING
http://pastebin.com/iP9w19ar

Another Hipoint story (it´s not related with Hipoint anon)
http://pastebin.com/Af3icZWS

/k/ommandos vs wild (ongoing)(updated)
http://pastebin.com/Sa6N0je7

dudebroguy
>Some Untitled Stories
>National Guard vs Jersey Devil
>Requiem from the gods (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/1cXMnvg4

EchoFiveSeven
> Gun spirits
http://pastebin.com/PpjUvW5k

Not Enough War (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/QMbRQpVL
http://pastebin.com/LRS2ZBrC

10/22 (ongoing)(updated)
>anon gets a raifu and misc stories
http://pastebin.com/uH6v780b

DBW
>Anon gets KSG, roll for sanity loss
http://pastebin.com/r6REt9Gt

It Ain't Me- Fortunate Sons
>Sticks and Stoners(ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/98XiGE6z

Rhodie FAL Guy (being rewritten)
http://pastebin.com/G0edSbFC

>>31773522

Garandfag (ongoing?)(NSFW!!)
>Anon gets hold of Kraut space magic
http://pastebin.com/2nDwG567
>Part 2 of anon gets a Garand (missing part
http://pastebin.com/YqeuEkcN

C8 fag (ongoing)
>C9
http://pastebin.com/HLu19bQJ
>C8A3
http://pastebin.com/nLAN53zg

Lever Gat Fag
>Heirloom rifle (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/gFjLFfKR

556X51 stuff
http://pastebin.com/u/556x51NATO

Ak 4OR (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/MQQyKaf3

Tacticalchucks (ongoing)
>Chucks and Erica
>Down the Road, Over the River
http://pastebin.com/u/Kolt1911

Anons
>It's about /k/ommandos removing supernatural kebab in the dark ages
http://pastebin.com/43gfWSPf
>Some poetry
http://pastebin.com/rJEfGKRf
http://pastebin.com/BErbeUTY
>Shotgun prevents a suicide (feels)
http://pastebin.com/g9srRrDn
>L1A1 (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/sCgZk6Nc
>Serial 1: SHTF, /k/ommando must survive (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/n4HLCXC0
>Tears of a Marlin
http://pastebin.com/06Rbchbb
http://pastebin.com/2rXfAxVM
>Shire Rifle Society
http://pastebin.com/EYjz8Trx
>A WG mades it towards the 40th century
http://pastebin.com/BVwARMkp
>Riikka
http://pastebin.com/u/tsuhna
>AAI
http://pastebin.com/rqG4x42X
>Don't sell your guns
http://pastebin.com/nY7nLVZe
>Untiled(ongoing) [we'll put a title 'till it's kinda clear were this is going]
http://pastebin.com/u/AH64AnimeGirl
>Feisty Muzzleloaders
http://pastebin.com/WJnSYPYv
>Howa arrives (ongoing)
http://pastebin.com/xtSPHVDU
>Viktoria
http://pastebin.com/5StKUQ9k
>a short story of the rifle watching over it's owner as he went through life
http://pastebin.com/8nuWJjnU

This stories are on an undifined hiautus
http://pastebin.com/fS17qWb7

Some google docs of writefaggotry
http://pastebin.com/JUuF7HjC

...Is the sticky over yet?
>trying to save myself public embarrassment I underwent yesterday because I was really excited about continuing the story.

Two things:
Do shotguns have 'geists? Wouldn't airshit be basically the same as a blowup doll?
>tfw QT underage 1911 waifu discovers your onohole

Coming soon: Chucks and Erica go to Corpus Christi! Erica discovers tequila! Sexual experimentation! Frances the Dog removes Mexican! Stay tuned.

>>31773587
>Do shotguns have 'geists?
Yes
>Wouldn't airshit be basically the same as a blowup doll?
Not really

>>31773613
What are scattergeists like?

>>31773613
>Shotgun prevents a suicide (feels)
http://pastebin.com/g9srRrDn

>>31773641
meant for
>>31773621

>>31773522
where's the ATannie part 1 pic?

http://pastebin.com/DKcRBCJS

Part two!

>>31773679
I pretty much just copypasted the first posts of the last thread. Ask the guy who does the archiving for that.

>>31773687
http://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek

Philosophically, do you think its more important to know about the past/ your roots/ where you have been or the future/ where you are going.

I'm asking for a friend

>>31773700
That's a tough one, doesn't it vary depending on which way you're looking most of the time?

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>>31773700
>>31773700
It's important to know where you came from, but you need to know where you're headed for any of it to matter.

>>31773700
It is most important to exist in the present, JTFag. It is best to focus on today. You can do nothing to change the past, and the future isn't here yet.

But to answer your question directly, I'd rather know about the future.

i doubt anyone here gives a fuck, but i managed to outrun my feels.It took 4000 bucks, and spending two night in a row at 130 mph but i actually did it

>>31773700
gotta know where you're going

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>>31773855
I can't speak for everyone, but I care. I used to have a 1990 IROC-Z. It was very good at relieving feels.

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>>31773876
wow, nice

sold my car and bike for shit money, bought one of these fuckers for 3500 k. Damn thing didn't run out of breath until like 170. I was so scared i didn't have time for feels. And now they are a lighter burden.

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>>31773888
Not trying to get all /o/ in here, but it'd probably do that in reverse as well. My IROC was a red convertible and almostgot my license permanently revoked.
Weapons of war aren't as devilishly tempting as a V8. I feel more responsible with them.

Is it better to redump my three part writefaggotry from the previous thread to here?

>captcha now requires you to draw around a sign

>>31773937
depends on i guess? did poly or archive cap it?

>>31773942
Its not yet pastebinned, exists on the same universe as Serial 1 and is a backstory to one of the characters.
It came in too late in the thread, but it is kind of meme-ish.

Might take a break from Serial 1 and try my hand at a semi-side backstory of Bill.
Hotheads beware.

The blue turboprop airplane creaked at the turbulence as it passed over hill and dale of the land below.

A man looked out of the window with a somewhat distressed look in his face. His hair has whitened in spots, face filled with wrinkles which he may or may not obtained from his years of radiation-related research.

He took his face away from the window, looking at the heavily armed guard that sat across him on the other side. The man was young, but his eyes showed experience, of things you do not want to see.

Three men with sack cloth over their heads were kneeling on the back, two more guards flanking them.

A man emerged from the cockpit and began to walk down the aisle. He wore a dark blue windbreaker and cargo pants, giving off an air of professionalism.

After a short yet hammy speech, he directed one of the guards to open up the rear door, which he does so. The sound of rushing air began to fill the cabin, muffling whatever things he said to the prisoner he held up to the open door.

He probably didn't like what he heard from the man, because he shot him on the spot with a handgun and directed his man to throw him overboard.

Two more of the covered men are left, and one of them was then again led to the open passage to certain death. Whoever this man is, he really takes no shit.

As his mouth began to move, the other captive opened up, but with a voice seemingly muffled by something that covered his mouth.

>"Well perhaps he is wondering why somebody would shoot a man, before throwing him out of a plane."

The man with the windbreaker, seemingly amused, has the previous prisoner taken back inside and ordered the door closed.

>"Oh, about that? I do not want to bore holes on the fuselage and scatter someone's memories all over the carpet."

He then pulled off the sack off the prisoner's head, unveiling a man wearing a mask.

>>31774078

>"Well, look at who it is. Bane, age unknown, leading world terrorist. Known to utilize systems that border on science and occultism to attack. Operates under the cover of an arms exporter, weeding out weapons with sentience. Tortures them to break their will to use them in your waffegeist research."

He then takes a look back at the masked man before he goes off back again at his tirade.

>"First known case was a bank robbery in Berlin. One of the bank guard's weapon started to fire wildly, hitting a civilian inside. So did two MP5's used by the responding police. Case was dismissed as negligience, but we know better, having captured the little bug planted on a nearby building."

>"Second case was during a machine-gun shoot at Knob Creek, Kentucky. Several machineguns went runaway, killing two owners and injuring spectators. A more powerful bug the size of a briefcase was left up on a powerline.

>"Attempted an attack during an open-carry protest in Texas. The ATF, however useless they may be, caught the white van that contained the 10-mile radius device. They thought it contained a car bomb and shot it to hell. We helped throw the incident under the carpet."

>"Lastly, attempted kidnapping of Dr. Leonid Pavel, self-proclaimed leading researcher in the Astranuclear Theory. If his research were to be viable, it would allow you to build an airburst nucleo-astral device to send all waffegeists in the continental United States to haywire."

The man in the mask squinted his eyes, seemingly entertained as on how the man before him knew his exploits, but he kept silent.

He had other plans.

The plane began to shake more violently than before.

>"Change heading to two-three-zero. Evasive maneuvers, or better yet, topple them."

It was visible in Bane's eyes the worry he had for his plans as the plane lurched one direction and his own plane, a white C-130, appeared on one of the side windows.

>"Have their MiG's shoot it down and tell it was a target drone."

>>31774083

The masked man fell silent, his plan outplayed by one of the smuggest agents he has ever seen.

>"Not feeling so big right now, huh, Bane?"

He was filled with anger, anger of having things not going to his plan.

>"You know why I plan to do away with waffegeists?!"

>"As much I want to listen to a man's ramblings on their dangers, I have no time for that. However, there is someone awaiting you when we get to our destination."

The specially-modified Bandeirante is equipped with an arresting hook for use on carriers, which in this case, is the USS Abraham Lincoln.

The tiny plane hooked on one of the cables, braking it abruptly on the flight deck. It was then taken quickly to the elevator so it could be hidden quickly from any spy satellites that might be lingering above.

All the men stepped out from the aircraft inside the carrier's hangar, dragging Bane and the other captive inside the carrier. The agent in blue and the doctor followed suit.

They went through many of the carrier's narrow isles, ducking down to fit through the low doors.
They then stopped at a metal door.

Painted on in in black solid letters were the words "ARMORY".

>"Well, looks like we are here. They are waiting for you two inside."

The door swung open, showing them several women wearing the blueberry uniform of the US Navy, seemingly waiting for them.

>"They are all yours, ladies."

The agent said to them before the two men are thrown inside. The women began to crack their knuckles and swung the metal door closed with a huge clang.

Muffled screaming and pleading can be heard inside as the men walked away. The agent then had his men keep a distance before he talked to the doctor.

>"So, about your waffegeist research..."

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>>31774078
>>31774083
>>31774091

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>>31774103
pic related

Well, I might come up later an addition for Serial 1 now that I have dumped my canon baneposting.

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>reading through previous threads
>there is a meta going on
>and a fucking house

sort of interested in doing a meta story, little about the house. All in jest and good spirit of course, but i'm not sure this is a horrible idea or not, and i won't do it if people don't like it

whatcha guys think?

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>>31774205

>>31774205
forgot:

might be written under the POV of an undercover ATF agent, and the following attack on the house

>>31774217
that pic is when /k/ occupies /pol/ with incessant rifleposting

>>31774220
So... Waco?

>>31773700

the past is the past. you can't change it , so you shouldn't let it change you. The future, that's up to you.

>>31773855
i care m8

>>31774220

I'm okay with it, for what little bit my input means.

>attack on the house
Good luck with that!

>Exterior wall construction: 2x6 stud walls, sheeted on the outside with 3/4” plywood followed by 3/8” steel plate followed by Level 3 ballistics-resistant fiberglass/kevlar panels followed by vapor barrier. Inside of walls is Level 3 ballistics-resistant fiberglass/kevlar panels covered in drywall. Windows are bullet-resistant. First floor exterior is brick, second floor exterior is aluminum siding.
>Interior wall construction: 2x4 stud walls, fully insulated for sound deadening. Interior walls use Level 3 ballistics-resistant fiberglass/kevlar panels covered in drywall on both sides

>>31773855
I care lad
>4000 bucks
W-what did you spend on?

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>>31773522

>>31774299
Porsche 928.

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>>31773855
I give a fuck. Be careful. I tried to outrun feels once. Pic related was the result.

>>31774311
Well at least you were in that comfy fucker and not a civic or something.

>a lot of stories are not on the this sticky

Guns don't kill people
http://pastebin.com/PzmqEPJA

kragfag the link on the sticky it's outdated
http://pastebin.com/UewkKShc


A. Shephard
Small zone of confort
http://pastebin.com/fLYuCuHz

The Deplorable Phil Ossiferz Stone
Cold
http://pastebin.com/BM4imGQ4

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>>31774322

my other car was a CRX. The amount the Caprice crushed in was equal to the length of the CRX from bumper to windshield.

Since I have already finished the baneposting backstory, I am going ahead to post more Serial 1.

There would be no way that the transmitter would be actually functional in that condition, you thought. Your two phones and the handheld radio are charging off several wall outlets, so you grabbed the trusty old Dell smartphone to use as a FM receiver.

You put down the USP on your hand on the desk so as you can plug in the headphones in the jack. You turn on the radio application and lo and behold, ignoring the occasional static, the station is still transmitting.

A look at the screen confirms that it is indeed tuned at 91.8 FM, Sublime's Santeria blaring out of the earphones, being part of the station's Friday Freakout program. Confusion and disbelief began to cloud your mind.

Your eyes began to roam around the inside of the station before you noticed the little legroom underneath the console. You lower the volume, and for what seemed to be a good idea at that time, placed the pair of earphones on Amelia's ears. She seems not to be disturbed by this, and so you went on to crawl under the console.

You turned the crookneck flashlight once again to take a look underneath. There was something that appeared to be an access panel, secured by two screws. You grabbed a multitool to turn them both loose, then eased the panel open, only to reveal a solid metallic block with a donut-shaped hole roughly two inches in diameter.

A safe of some sort? What could it possibly contain?

A safe you cannot open would be useless, so you went back out and up in search of a key. It would be common sense not to keep the key on the same room as a safe, but you are desperate to know what it contains.

Then it strikes you.

The USP has a suppressor, and it seemed like it would fit right in. It would be the perfect thing to jimmy it open.

You snatched the USP off the table on what possibly be the dumbest idea you could think of and went back under the console.

>even more stories that aren not on the sticky
Mosinwritefag
http://pastebin.com/u/Myshka

It Ain't Me- Fortunate Sons
what we lost (feels)
http://pastebin.com/3AZhcuqw

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Ugh... I feel like I've got a bug. I'm going to stay in, cut the AC to 65, take a shower, and lay in bed under my quilts, cuddling my raifu.
I'll try to write some tonight but no promises.

>>31774549
Alright lad sleep tight, I won't be completing any artwork since I gotta deal with moving to another home

>>31774440

The suppressor's hole, as expected lined up, lined up with the bar in the middle of the hole. You eased it in until it stopped right at where the slide is at. Nothing happens.

Might as well turn it like a key right? Wrong.

Halfway counterclockwise, the gun stopped turning and began to glow. Blue lines began to draw across the handgun's slide and frame, then it travelled up the grips.

You cannot let go of it, like it was stuck to your hand with glue.

Suddenly, all vision recedes to a central point, leaving you in a void of darkness.

Static began to fill your vision as glowing numbers began to rush towards you, being displayed in sequences you don't understand. Wherever you looked, it's all numbers.

All in a sudden, you are now in the middle of a white room. Entirely barren.

The floor began to shake.

You are lifted high in the air on what seemed to be a pedestal. As you look down below, the barren wasteland has now transformed into a massive library, but instead of books it was guns.

Guns for miles, it was.

From what appeared to be the earliest handgonnes and Chinese cannons, to the newest rifles you have seen on the Internet, to several homemade firearms of varying workmanship.

This must be the best trip to be had, you thought.

You went back down through a series of steps, browsing the first row. There was a Steyr AUG, that Swiss battle rifle whose name began with an Stgw, and several Tec-9s. Your eyes now strayed over to a G11, and beside it was a full-length Caselman air SMG. The rack behind this one contained what you believe to be a Brazilian homemade SMG along with a Lewis gun. An AR-15 was beside it.

As you stroll past several other guns, you come across a slambang shotgun. You were certain that it was the same one that Youtube guy built, having that M4 style stock and duct tape on it. As you try to touch it however, it was not solid, so was all the guns you have tried to touch.

They were merely manifestations of all waffegeists.

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>>31774205
>>31774220

And a blody soldier cafe don't forget the soldier cafe
>from the point of an atf agent
shit, that would be how a normie would react to a bunch of /k/omandos living together in a house that smells of oil, gunpowder, and hoppes 9

>pic kinda related

Who wants more feels? I think I can do more feels.

>>31774655
>more feels

well, i need an excuse to finish a bottle of tequila laying in my house

>>31774662
Alrighty, I'll fry up bsome eggs and get back to What We Lost.

>>31774580

This would be quite a literal astral gun armory, you thought. All waffegeists eventually return here to be renewed in form, to become another weapon. A reconditioning center.

A realization then struck your mind. What would waffegeists have to do with a radio station?

As the thought played around your mind, it felt like you tripped on something and began to fall through a nonexistent hole on the floor.

It was all red down here, as scenes of combat began to flash through. Chinese and the Mongols, muskets in a field, aircooled MGs on a biplane, Omaha, Vietnam, Iraq. You could only understand the glimpses, but these are all battles where waffegeists could have participated in and died to. Then the scenes of cutting and melting of rifles, the screams echoing in your ear as they plead for an end in the suffering.

Too much information, you are seeing too much.

Hearing too much.

Knowing too much.

It began to feel as if your head is being compressed, of pain you cannot comprehend as you continued to fall through the abyss.

You can't take it anymore, your head can't...

Someone snags you right out through the wall of darkness.

A distant scenario from the previous, you are now sitting on what appeared to be an office chair in the middle of a lighted room.

Like a VR display, leeter began to show up in your vision.

PROJECT NEUWAFFE

STATUS:ACTIVE

AGENT: WILSON, BILL S.

It then displays a simulated map right in front of you.

A map of your city.

Multiple blue dots show up on it, with one solid and one blinking up in the hills you were staying in.

On the lower right corner of the map it said:

ACTIVATED WAFFEGEISTS: 174

DORMANT WAFFEGEISTS: 205

As you analyze the map more and more, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

A familiar feeling.

You turn around, showing you that same damn smug smile.

It was Bill.

Why he is here, you don't know.

"Had to drag you out of that cascade, can't I get a little thanks?"

>>31774655
>>31774679
I think I'll take it. Something to distract me while I move

>>31774744
His smug smile began to fade as he began to speak out again.

>"You could only stay here for a while before you go into another cascade, so listen carefully. You made it here, as I expected. I am now permanently embedded to the system like a waffegeist. All you see is just a visual interface of the astral environment. It's like magic being displayed in an LCD screen. The station is a CIA numbers station to activate 'geists for a rebellion. Codes are embedded on music so as to appear as static to normal hearing. Humans hear nothing, 'geists understand it."

>"I have no problem staying here, but now my blood, sweat and tears have contacted the handgun, it would function as my connection to the tangible world. I can give directions, an occasional joke, but nothing else. I took over the USP's waffegeist."

>"Do not mind the equipment being broken, or even the tower. We transmit via the ground. It sounds unscientific, but it works. You are running out of time and about to go into another cascade. Code 241 Amelia reel him in, NOW!"

The scene goes out to black.

You are now hearing the tweeting of birds.

>"Welcome back sir."

As you open your eyes, Amelia is now standing over you, headphones still on her ears.

>"Must say that you look ridiculous while in a trance, drooling and all that."

She drags you out from underneath the console and helps you to stand up.

The sun has already well risen, showing the city as if nothing happened in the past few days.

Amelia pulled out the USP from the keyhole and lays it down on the desk. She then takes down the now dry clothes she had hung last night.

>Amelia, I must say thanks.
>"Nah, no need to be grateful, you being my creator and shit."

Well, her vocabulary seemed to have gotten more colorful each day.

You are now certainly hungry, so you just certainly opened up the minifridge that went unnoticed last night.

Only two bottles of beer and a ham sandwich are inside.

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>>31774329
>Small Zone of Confort
Thank you for remembering me. I know I'm a bit slowing getting it going, but I promise I'm working on it.

Don't forget about me /wfg/!

>>31774956
>implying i forget about a writefag

>>31773855
glad to know you're still with us man.

>>31773700
future. The past will always be important, to learn from history and such, but the future is coming for you whether you're ready or not.

>>31773951
just got it man after checking the previous thread.

http://pastebin.com/BRBYBQU9

>>31774655
after the shit you pulled last night, i'm admittedly afraid for what comes next in that story.

>>31774935
You decided to split the sandwich among the two of you, and so was the beer.

It was a relatively welcome change from what you considered as meals in the last few days, you thought as you gobbled down the last of the sandwich.

You open up the bottles with your multitool and passed one of them to Amelia.

>For Bill and for Waffegeists!

You said as you had an informal toast with her.

She downed the bottle in one go as if she was a drain.

After a few minutes, you have finished yours, and you went to look out of one of the windows.

You two need a ride out of this hill. The station is self sustaining, and you need to get down on the city to know what's up. You are also sure that the hill would be chock full of checkpoints looking for you two.

Out of the corner of your vision, you spot something.

A lone helicopter was perched on a helipad of a TV station.

Years of playing FSX is finally going to pay off.

Reality then shot your plans down. The Chinese are not going to just let civilian aircraft fly around unharmed. It would be suicidal to do so.

That was until you notice the roll of yellow packaging tape that laid on the table. A quick check on a drawer revealed some glossy red gift wrapping paper.

You hold the USP up your head as if it was a phone.

>"Hey Bill, do you have a Helicopter Certification?"

You began to chuckle.

This has to be the most ridiculous escape plan you have ever conjured of.

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PTRfag reporting in from bed accompanied by PTR91 A3R. I've decided to quit being such a troglodyte, tape back my soul with band-aids, and get back out there.
I know some of you have had irl dates on tinder, so I'm asking a question while trying not to derail the thread too much:
>what is this Tinder Verified business?
"Girls" keep bringing it up, but it looks like a a good way to have my identity stolen.
>Is what they're talking about really a thing or is this some bot trying to take all my personal information?
>if tinder verify is really a thing, did you do it? Did nudist scammers take all your shit?

The stay on thread, I'm rethinking my ending. FALwritefag may be able to help.

why wont anybody draw johnson ;_:

>>31775019
Thanks man.

This would be the last post for Serial 1 for tonight.

Any critique is welcome, thanks!

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>>31775094

Nahhh It's mostly a spam bot looking to sell your shit.

Verified is a blue check that marks stuff like celebrities and athletes and stuff so you can tell they're the real person.

Sort of like twitter.

And honestly, going off of my own experiences, and everything I've read so far based on what you've gone through...

It may be best you just look for something the old fashioned way and maybe stop flinging yourself against the wall?

Just let yourself straighten out some more than just a little while and a drive, eh?

>
>
>
Also, unrelated, but.

Does anyone care for mid-day spooks?

I fell asleep waiting for a new thread last night...so I didn't get to post what I wrote up. Or would you rather wait for night time?

I can do either!

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>>31775130
it's evening spoops for me!

>>31775130
write it woman!

>>31775121
no problem. As for critique, the explanation for the waffegeists seems a bit odd for right now, but i'm assuming you'll probably have more an explanation later.

also, gonna have more interactions between amelia and anon now that bill is out of the story and escape is in sight?

>>31775094
just post the picture you posted here man. ladies will be running.

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>>31775130
midday spoops for me

>>31775130
I prefer night, only because I'm being selfish due to having to study all day today.

Part 3 of Hotline will also be slow to come out as a result, but I plan to make it less exhaustive

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Blahhh.

I guess I'll go ahead and post, I might add a bit more to it later tonight!

Sooo here we go!

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[Reposting the last post I posted here since it's been a while.]

>"You fucked up my meth. You get to help me get rid of mister piggy."

>Bishop laid his terms down, crossing his arms.

>The stink didn't bother him at all.

>It almost seemed like he liked the smell of it...the way he smiled.

"Ugh...fucking A....couldn't you have fucking done something with it earlier...the fuck..."

>Morgan shook her head as she talked, doing a good job of covering the dread and anguish she felt at the current moment.

"Bacon's no good if you leave it out in the fucking sun."

>She added, smirking a bit, keeping her character in check.

>Bishop bought it, grinning back at her reply.

>"Go get the bag I brought." Bishop waved his hand at her dismissively, going inside the freezer and grabbing the dead cops ankles, pulling him down to his back from his slouched sitting position in the freezer floor.

>Morgan nods, turning and scurrying out of the building toward the truck, her composure starting to crumble as she gets a moment to herself, her emotions taking over, and starting to control her thought.

>She started to breathe heavy, her steps getting awkward.

>Tula spoke calmly as she started to melt down.

>"Keep your cool."

"Fuck...fuckfuckfuck...fuck..."

>She whined, tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes, dwelling on the cop's body.

>Tula admonished her again.

>"Keep. Your. Cool."

>He drilled the point home, demanding she don't lose it at the sight of a body.

"Yeah...Yeah."

>She sniffed, wiping her face with her sleeve and reached over the side of the truck bed, grabbing the bag and lifting it. The contents jingling and jittering inside.

>Then she heard it.

>Rustling in the woods, just at the edge of the treeline. Her body froze like prey being loomed over by a predator.

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>>31775258

>Fear washed over her as she slowly turned to look.

>She stood rigid, her eyes reading the environment to her right, the woods as inhospitable as they always were.

>But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was staring.


>Right.


>At.


>Her.

>She could feel the weight of it's gaze, as if it were practically in front of her, breathing down her throat.

>Her mind began to twist and contort reality as she stared straight ahead, racing at the possibilities.

>The invisible tendrils of fear induced madness began to grip her being as she kept staring, reaching down to her belt almost as if by instinct and pulled her flashlight, aiming it into the woods.

>She clicked the tail cap.

>There.

>Hanging in the trees.

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>>31775280

>Another six of the twig fetishes, all wrapped with different colored human hair, a large bone in the center of each of them --suspended by the hair.

>They all hung from varying levels ranging from about 8 feet up to 3 feet, all of them were of varying design, some with the twigs intersecting in V patterns, others in X shapes.

>They were much, much bigger than the one in Bishops truck.

>Her whole torso could fit inside of the largest, her hand in the smallest.

>Morgan's mind exploded into wild thoughts, twisting and warping the reality around her in a sickening spiral, garish images flooding her mind.

>The visions were of an alien looking city-scape, unlike any she'd ever seen before, far in the distance, burning with a bright yellow blaze, like a sun had ignited itself in the center of the city, immolating everything, yet...somehow keeping everything solid.

>As if everything were simultaneously burning to ash and rebuilding itself like cells.

>There were milk white, yet dead trees lining a single path all the way to the city--miles from her location, far in the horizon.

>On either side of the trees swept an endless expanse of swampland, the grasses swaying.

>From the perfectly white trees hung rotting child's corpses suspended from brass hooks in their wrists, arms spread wide in a Y shape above them.

>A corpse was in each tree.

>Every tree, as far as she could see.

>Dead children.

>A triangular fetish just the same as all the others she had seen was encasing each of their heads.

>She felt a warm, heavy, humid breeze blow over her body...It felt as if it was blowing -through- her.

>Listening closely she could hear the sounds of low agonized moans and a single powerful heartbeat faintly, as if they were emanating far from the distance, yet circling her, deep in the swampland.

>She could hear a woman singing, but she couldn't make out the words, like pleasant sounding mumbles.

>Her head felt like it was on fire.

>>31775094

I tried Tinder, but I couldn't get any sparks to fly.

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>>31775306

>"What the FUCK are you doing out there!?"

>Bishop shouted from the building, snapping her out of her stupor.

>She looked around, finding that Tula had fallen from her grip, along with the tools in the bag, and she had wandered all the way into the woods and was about 4 feet from the closest twig sculpture, her hand outreached toward it.

"A...ahhhh..."

>She shook her head, making an apprehensive sound, slowly backing away.

>She shook her head more, speeding up her movements as she did it, damn near bursting from the woods in a feverish rampage, slipping and falling to the ground as she cleared the woods into the clearing, sliding a little bit as she made contact with the ground.

>She shook the pain off quickly, jumping to her feet as swiftly as she could manage in her frightened state, scooping up the bag and Tula.

>She sprinted back to the Heroine building, being in there with Bishop and the corpse was better than being out here with...with...

>Whatever the fuck that shit was.

>"What the fuck is wrong with you...? Didn't you hear me?"

>Tula spoke as she ran, not getting a response from the panicked woman carrying him, not pressing and keeping his mouth shut the moment Bishop was within earshot.

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>>31775331

>"You fucking hear me, you dumb bitch? The fuck were you doing?"

>Bishop growled, a cigarette still burning in his mouth.

>The cop's body had been stripped of it's clothes, Bishop was wearing the officer's equipment belt, fiddling with the pair of handcuffs.

"Sorry I...Bathroom."

>She sighed a bit, formulating the quickest excuse she could muster, failing miserably at hiding her horror at the vision of that place burned into her head.

>"What the fuck ever."

>Bishop growls, shoving her aside and grabbing the bag, unzipping it and tossing her a hacksaw and some rubber gloves, as well as a smock made of black trash bag.

>"Put that shit on and get to work on his arms. I'll do his legs."

>Bishop did as he said, taking his saw and beginning to viciously hack the cop's legs off at the knees.

>Morgan watched for a second and hesitantly began to do the same to his arms, closing her eyes, slowly drawing the saw across the cop's arm.

>She felt the blade bite into his distended greying flesh, cutting a bloodless fissure into the crease of his arm where his elbow bends.

>She clenched her teeth a bit behind her tightly inward curled lips, drawing the saw again, deepening the cut, striking bone not a moment later, letting out a low sickened groan, and beginning to cut into the elbow...the joint...the tendon...

>Pull and push.

>Pull and push.

>She quietly continued, turning her mind off, trying to tune out the sensation of the bite of the blade cleaving his rotting body to pieces.

>She tried, anyway, but her body was going to remember the feeling of this sensation in her muscles until the day she died.

>However, She had honestly forgotten what she was doing, like her mind was transporting her to a safe, clean place to save her from any more damage.

>Trying to keep her from falling off the edge.

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>>31775130
>flinging myself against the wall
B-but that's all I'm good at senpai... seriously, unless I'm trapped in a elevator with someone, I cannot talk to a pretty young thing cold. I'm great at my job. I sell firearms. I could sell you your own shadow if I tried. But, I cannot sell myself. My self esteem is so low atm, it's literally spaghetti.
You guys I can talk to because I thought you were all guys (and therefore nonsexual entities) to begin with.

>spoops?
I love spoops! Dowit!

>>31775175
That's literally what I did and I've caught nothing but a bunch of bots so far. I'll give it month or so before I give up.

>>31775309
I fear we may end up in the same boat so no worries.
>you're paddling btw

my father never talked about the war. He never mentioned it or brought it up as a topic.

Sometimes when there was a loud bang he would freeze and his eyes would franticly dart back and forth searching for the source waiting for the next incoming sound to spell his immediate demise, when the final sound never came he would unfreeze and continue on as if nothing ever happened.

He always slept with a flask of alcohol by his bed. He wasn't much of a drinker during the day but sometimes at night I would hear him wake up with a gasp and then hear him walk down to the back porch there he would drink for a good hour or so till he settled his nerves, then he would walk back up the stairs and go to bed.

I never knew much about the war until I received my draft card for Vietnam. I had never seen him cry once in my life, not when his parents died, not even when my mother passed away I never did see him cry. He sat me down and looked me in the eye and said "son the hardest thing in war isn't the time you waste the pain you feel or the threat of death. Its the friends you make and lose. And if your best friend ever says he is going to go over that hill or round that corner before you tell him to wait." he said as tears streamed down his face. I couldn't belive what I was seeing this was a man who I had always thought of as an unmovable mountain, some one who was above emotions and here he was, crying in front of me like a child. I had felt fear but never like this if something was bad enough to make him cry I couldn't imagine what it could do to me.

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>>31775360

>Hell, she'd even forgotten about the smell.

>Until the saw scraped against the cement floor, grinding roughly, prompting her to move up to his shoulder and start the whole process over again.

>Her hands were shaking, but she kept going, faster this time.

>Her hands met a groove, sawing back and forth, her eyes averted the entire time, just trying to get the task over with.

>She was going fast...

>Maybe a little too fast.

>She didn't notice the...juices...splattering on her gloves and smock until it was too late, a sizable amount finding it's home directly on her face, immediately sending her into a spitting sputtering fit, dropping the saw and shaking her head wildly, unable to wipe her own face due to the gloves.

"Fuck! Ah! Ah my fucking god!"

>She flailed her arms a bit, unable to do anything about it, Bishop only laughing at her plight.

>"Shut up and finish. I've got shit in the truck for that."

>He chuckled a bit, turning his eyes back down to his work, hacking away again, finishing shortly, Morgan doing the other arm in record time, seeming as if she -wanted- to do this shit.

>"One more, Chica."

>Bishop moves his boot forward, tapping the dead cop on top of his head, making it move a little bit.

"Urgh..."

>She rebelled a little, closing her eyes and turning her head as she met the blade to the corpse's neck, groaning a bit and sawing as quickly as she could to end it.

>She felt her stomach turn as the fibers and tubes of the neck met the blade, finally ending up in a stiff cut at the back of the neck, eventually meeting the floor with a much welcome "SCRKKK" on the concrete.

>>31775368
are you me. Dude same issue I was always the number one fund raiser, and helped with electronic sales at the store I worked in still cant get a date. thinking about giving up on women and waiting for robots

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>>31775391

>"There. All done. Help me bag 'em up and we can finish this bullshit."

>Bishop sighed, flapping open a trash bag, grabbing body parts and bagging them up, transferring them into the duffel bag, a second bag for the torso and head.

>"Alright, get your ass in gear, lets go."

>He lifted both bags almost effortlessly, only a small grunt escaping his lips as he hoisted it up, Morgan pulling her gloves off and grabbing Tula, following bishop out to the truck, shedding the smock and stuffing it into the bag Bishop had put his in.

>She hastily dropped Tula into the passenger seat and rummaged the truck finding a small package of wet one's wipes, immediately going to work on cleaning her face off, acting almost frantic as she did it, going through half the package, scrubbing as hard as she could...

>She could still smell it on her skin.

>The foul stench.

>"Stop fucking wasting my shit and get in the fucking truck!"

>Bishop growled, forcing the woman into the passenger's seat, her hands finding Tula's grip and fore-end again almost magnetically as she sat in the truck staring blankly ahead out of the windshield.

>"Fuck me! You stink! Haha~...You can go home after we get rid of him."

>She just nodded flatly at Bishop's words, as if she'd gone totally despondent, focusing every fiber of her being to keep herself from breaking down into a fit of tears, squeezing Tula as tight as she could muster.

>It was uncomfortable for him, being squeezed by a desperate woman, but he took it in silence.

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>>31775418

>She didn't let up her grip, not for a second, just staring out the window, watching the woods give way to fields, giving way to more woods.

>The pathway disappeared into the forest's natural environment, trees of all types sprouting from all kinds of locations.

>She didn't even see if there was a turn he'd failed to take.

>She didn't care.

>Bishop stopped the truck, a small pit was in the ground, pre-dug.

>He got out of the truck with a silent grunt, Morgan staying totally dead still.

>The feelings of dread and fear and sadness and anxiety feeling as if they'd become the norm for her...her mind was losing it's grip on her ability to function.

>Bishop slammed his fist down on the hood of the truck.

>She gasped a bit, shaking her head in shock at the sound, snapping out of her empty stare, promptly getting out, leaving Tula behind in the truck's cab, grabbing a shovel she reported to the pit.

>She stood, watching Bishop dump the cop, and then helping him fill the 5 foot deep hole part way, watching him wander off into the woods and dragging another bag back behind him, dropping it into the hole.

>Just one.

>It was smaller.

>She sat there for a moment her brain trying to formulate what it was, flashing back to all possible angles on what the fuck could be that small, yet fill a whole 50 gallon trash bag.

>K-9.

>K-9 was on the cop's coat.

>She'd glazed over it, her mind too occupied with the officer's current appearance.

>"Man...I tell ya, skinnin' a dog an' finding a micro-chip is a real bitch."

>Bishop gloated a bit, the subject forcing Morgan to draw up what the poor animal looked like in her head, shuddering a little bit, silently beginning to fill the hole again.

>She was moving quicker now, doing anything to get herself out of here, finally running out of dirt, a neat little mound where the two bodies lay, bishop smoothly leveling it out and covering it with the leaves laying around.

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>>31775490

"S'get the fuck outta here."

>Morgan croaked her words, turning around and carrying the shovel back to the truck dropping it in the bed, getting in the cab to find Bishop sitting there, cross legged on the ground by the grave.

>Doing something to it.

>She couldn't quite tell what it was...

>Until he stood up.

>He'd left a small teepee of sticks on the grave, pieces of hair and twine dangling from the top ends, obscure items hanging from the strings, swaying lazily in the empty breeze, she closed her eyes as soon as she recognized it and kept them that way as he walked to the truck and opened the door.

>She didn't dare open them, feeling the truck back up and turn around, heading back to the Meth building.

>She heard him light a cigarette. She smelled the smoke.

>She didn't dare open her eyes.

>The ride felt like it took forever as he stopped, about to say something, But Morgan had already grabbed Tula and gotten out, closing the door behind her.

>Bishop laughed at her, watching her walk straight to her Jeep, clamoring into it, Tula staying just as he was in rifle form, silently watching her from the passenger seat.

>She didn't even realize she'd carried him with her into the car with her.

>Morgan kept her face straight for as long as she could, peeling out of the driveway and barreling down the path, hitting the paved road with a chirp of her tires, speeding away from the woods as fast as the old Mopar would take her.

>The further away from the woods she got, the less she could control herself.

>Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she kept her composure...reasonably well, small whines escaping her lips every so often as she sped along, finally slowing down when the two lane road gave way to a highway, and buildings larger than two story homes began to litter the streets.

>Other cars were around still at 3:23 AM.

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>>31775542

>She was inches from a breakdown as she pulled into her parking garage, her hands were shaking as she got out of the jeep, her mag carrier and all still on, leaving Tula behind.

>He watched her quietly, having changed to his human form when she'd left the Jeep, blinking just a bit, a cold expression on his face.

>She'd forgotten she'd even brought him.

>He narrowed his eyes, just a little as she stepped out of view and into the starway, following her and keeping his distance, watching the apartment she went to and then going back down to the Jeep, sitting in it without a single sound.

>You could say the salty bastard was concerned about her.

>But not in a friendly way.

>She was giving him strange vibes the way she was acting, and he intended on discovering what the fuck her problem was, one way or another.

>Morgan sat silently in the shower, letting the scalding hot water run over her body, her knees tucked to her chest.

>She sobbed just a bit to herself, her eyes wide, staring straight ahead, rocking herself back and forth.

>Her mind was blank.

>She sat in the shower for what felt like 2 hours, eventually getting out once her skin couldn't take the abuse anymore.

>She shed her colored contacts and quietly pulled on some underwear, her eyes totally dry of tears now.

>She was totally empty inside.

>Sniffing flatly, she grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels off her counter top and carried it with her to bed, her apartment pitch black save for the light pollution coming in from outside.

>She curled up in bed, her shoulder was to the headboard, knees to her chest, just as she was in the shower. Drinking directly from the bottle, she stared out of her window at the streetlight down on the corner...Not at the light pole, or the sidewalk...not the road...not the car under it.

>The light.

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>>31775592

>She kept her eyes utterly and completely transfixed on the orangeish yellow street light, blinking only once every 3 to 4 minutes.

>With a low sigh Morgan finally closed her eyes once the bottle was completely empty, her mind in a haze from the mass amount of alcohol she had consumed, seeing the sky turning a dreary dark purple.

>The sun was rising...


>She fell asleep.


>She slept so hard she didn't notice the sound of an intruder walking into her apartment, rummaging through her things, looking them all over, looking at the way she was living.

>Her UC apartment was utterly trashed.

>Tables and chairs were in places that made no sense, there were empty bottles and full ash-trays everywhere.

>Carry out boxes littered the floor and the kitchen counter, dirty clothes lay on the floor, untouched...

>She woke up a few hours later, finding the room had been totally cleaned.

>Her badge and UC phone, as well as her paperwork credentials were gone from their place on her night stand, arranged neatly in a row on the Kitchen table, her brown contacts in their case resting above everything, her eyes turning to find Tula sitting at the table with his arms folded, fingers drumming on his bicep.

>He opened his mouth and spoke with an accusatory tone, his accent a bit thicker than usual.

>"You have something to be telling me?"

>>31775094
i think TacticalChucks would help you, chap

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>>31775624

And that's all for now~

If I post tonight, it'll be mostly relationship building~

As always, let me know what you thought!

>>31775130
Some entertainment would be nice, I'm still stuck cleaning out and moving inna new home. I don't think I'll be able to post the character designs and Chiappa wian NVG due to the university work and moving

And to continue >>31772020

>And he made sure that she was always with you when you went out to play in the forests.
>To keep you safe from the wildlife of Alaska, like she kept him safe from the enemy soldiers in Korea.
>You went everywhere with Ida on your back.
>Now you'll never know that feeling again.
>One final swig clears out the bottle.
>"A-Anon? Is that you?"
>You shoot up to sit upright.
>That voice...
>You'd recognize it anywhere.

>>31775669

"Wilma? Weren't you in the safe?"
>Wilma, your grandfather's trusty Colt handgun, steps into the room.
>Her short hair is almost a greenish grey, and her eyes a bright green.
>She is just as short as you remember, but as your grandfather always joked, she packed a mean right hook with the right load.
>"No, I was hiding. After I saw Ida being sold, I hid. I was scared she would sell me, too."
>Her eyes start watering up, and you're snapped out of your haze.
>As quick as a heavily drunken man can do so, you climb over to the edge of the bed and hop out.
>No time is wasted in pulling Wilma against your chest into a hug.
>Just as you pull her head into your chest, she starts sobbing.
"It's okay, now. I kicked her out. I won't anymore bad things happen to you guys, okay?"
>Her sobs only grow heavier, and you feel your shirt grow damp.
>You can barely make out the words between her sobs.
>"I miss Ida! I miss Jerry!"
>Tears build up in your eyes hearing the heartbroken M1911 say the name of your grandfather.
>You tighten the hug and rest the side of your cheek on top of her head.
"I miss them, too, Wilma. I'm so sorry I wasn't fast enough. If I had just flown out with Jane, I'd have been able to keep you all safe. I'm so sorry."
>Shorter arms wrap around your midsection.
>"It's not your fault Annie. You didn't know."
>Her words were meant to reassure you, but the lighter sobs choking her up between every few words keeps your guilt from fading.

>>31775674

>After a few more minutes, both of your sobbing wanes.
>The wear from riding for so long coupled with the extreme emotional drain finally catches up to you, and hits you with a wave of tiredness.
>You fail to stifle a yawn.
>Wilma takes notice and pushes you onto the bed.
>"Come on, let's sleep. I'm tired, too."
>She climbs over to the other side of the bed and crawls under the covers before poking her head back out.
>It's adorable to watch.
>Deciding that sleep is the best thing you can do right now, you join her and slide under the covers.
>Wilma clings onto your side like a holstered pistol, and you place and arm around her shoulder to keep her secured.
>You'll make sure that none of your grandfather's guns will be neglected.
>You owe it to Ida, wherever she is now.
>Sleep finally takes you after a short while of listening to the rhythmic breathing of the sidearm.

>>31775680
Not a huge amount, but eh.

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>>31775646
>sawing
Took me to a real comfy place there. I had to debate whether another shower was necessary.
Have you tried publishing anything? Your literary voice is pretty advanced. Granted it takes me to places I've never wanted to go, but that's exactly why I ask.

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>>31775729

Lol~

Nah, I'm not that advanced.

Besides, this is all for fun here! I feel like if I started to do it for money, I'd stretch myself far too thin and end up just losing the passion I have.

>>31775746
I can understand that.

>>31773587

THEY'RE NOT DOLLS MOM! THEY'RE ACTION FIGURES!

>>31775646
Hugs please, you spooped me

So, verdict on the house story?

Meta stories might be a bit touchy subject, so I don't want to do it unless you guys want it.

Also, I have missed a bit so if someone would give me a short rundown of the more important people/ rifles?

>>31775771
Ya big baby.
>It was only ketchup.

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>>31772332
>>31772353
>>31772358

>always wanted a continuation of the mosin story
>finally see Mosinwritefag again
>excited
>Mosin is abandoned by her owner


Oh jesus no, not like this.

>>31775804
>Abandoned
No

>>31775782
Clarification. Are you talking about a story written about the /wfg/ house?
>if so, I love to laugh at myself

>>31775843
Yeah, that's what I meant

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>>31775843
>forgot to add pic

Time for more of A Small Zone of Comfort

We're jumping backwards now into the prologue bit; it's gonna be quite long ride so hang on.

Prologue Part 1: Fields of Gold

A few years earlier.

Snayperskaya Vintovka Dragunova, stamped 1972 T-527. A marksman's tool. By all accounts an ordinary rifle. Like most of the second hand weapons in this tiny checkpoint, it had seen its fair share of conflicts. The soviet incursion into Afghanistan, Chechnya on both sides in both wars, and a lot of border duty everywhere in between. It was eventually sold in a bulk purchase to the Ukrainian government.

And right now, it was being checked out by the designated marksman of this forgotten military outpost in northern Ukraine.

“Orest, I don’t even know why you bother,” grumbled an older man who was only half dressed fatigues, “no one has given a shit about rules since we rotated here, and as a matter of fact, neither do I.”

Orest, a man who was a few decades younger than the soviet-era can of Tourist Delight glaring at him, simply smiled as he finished filling out the requisition form.

That was promptly taken by the older man, crumbled up, and thrown into the nearest bin.

“You can just take the damn thing whenever you want. The rest of the men do, knowing it makes my job a lot easier.”

Orest retorted “You mean them?”
As if to emphasise his point, a bottle smash was heard from down the hall in this little house they called “The Southern Checkpoint.” An echo of drunken laughter ensused.

It was only 0800. The quartermaster, Maksym, just sighed.

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>>31775872

“You know as well as I as there never has been, or will be, anything of importance to do except to stand there menacingly and keep the occasional tourist out. Command has probably forgotten us, the government in Kiev has most certainly forgotten us, and if this keeps up, even our families will forget us. Let them have their fun.”

Orest just continued to smile as he took the requisitioned rifle, a few boxes of ammo, and started to walk out the door.

“The keys under the seat of the UAZ, make sure you bring it back in once piece!” Maksym called out. “The boys would surely miss their vodka delivery system.”

In truth, Maksym respected Orest, despite the banter he gave every time he did his by the book routine. Maksym had been in this army enough to understand how these shitshow deployments usually go, in these forgotten corners. It was important to have a few straightmen to show face if the brass came by, to make sure the order doesn’t go to complete hell, and, if the day comes where they need to earn their pay, they’ll be someone to rally them and maybe keep them alive.

Ignorant of all this, Orest just walked out to the “motor pool”

The motor pool consisting of an old soviet era light utility vehicle, and a rusted out hull of a soviet consumer zaz-966, abandoned since the initial evacuation in the mid 80’s.

He turned the key and pumped the gas pedal a few times, trying to get the fuel moving. Once he heard the first rev, he waited a bit to let the old military green scout car warm up a bit. Meanwhile he reached back and set down the squad designated sniper rifle in the rear seat.

Taking up the entire backseat with it’s impressive 4ft length, he admired the uncharacteristically dark wood stock and handguard. He lucked out too, as this hand me down still had it’s cheek riser and original POS-1 4x scope. It was difficult finding optics for any of their second-hand firearms, let alone for a marksman’s rifle.

>>31775887

He was taking out the UAZ because someone had to do it for patrols. As it was obvious no one else was willing, or even capable, of doing it, he went out on these little excursions once a week.

Believing the vehicle was warmed up enough, he pulled it out and turned onto the road south. While most of what they were supposed to be guarding was north of this small checkpoint, they were responsible for all the immediate area, north and south. Besides, all that was to the immediate north of the base was gigantic piles of abandoned radioactive junk.

The suspension was rough as he now turned east, right before the railroad tracks. There once was a road, leading to the small hamlet that existed in a time long forgotten. Orest was probably one of the few people alive who still knew of it’s existence. And why would anyone else care? It was slowly being eaten up by the swamp that had no purpose but to form another natural barrier against the large territory to its north.

>>31775646

did she forget to lock the apartment? bad form for a UC.

>>31775782

I don't mind a meta story.

>>31775896

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UVjjcOUJLE

The UAZ protested as he rode it up the berm. Dirt flying out from under the tires, but he’d made this run before, and was confident it could do it. Finally overcoming the top, he turned it right a little ways and then stopped. Killing the engine, he grabbed the rifle in the back and sat up upon the rear seat rest.

Looking out, most of the swamp was laid before him. Closer to his right, the tops of some older wooden structures could still be seen. The hamlet. Further on, an out of place brick building was visible. Maybe a factory, once, placed into the middle of this swamp by misguided or uncaring soviet planners. That was the farthest he’d ever been in the swamp. In the far distance, a crooked steeple could be made out; far older than the hamlet and the factory. And seemingly swallowing up all these scars of human habitation was a vast field of gold; the local reeds becoming a brilliant color of yellow in this early morning June sun.

A smaller, more selfish reason why he went out on these patrols was he never got over this sight. The gentle rustling of the wind making waves in the plant life. The light as it peeked through some broken windows. The sounds of a few wild birds and the errant grunt of a distant boar. A smaller part of his inner child was eager to explore, but that, he reminded himself, would take him away from his duty. Plus lights out was 22:00 hours, and being a stickler for the rules he was adverse to missing it by getting lost in the swamps.

>>31775900
No, he's crafty~

>>31775904
Another thought crossing his mind, as he scanned some of the trails through the 4x scope of his rifle, was the bit of guilt he felt by using the rifle. The SVD was traditionally used as weapon for the squad designated marksman. It was not like some of the more powerful contemporaries, as it used the standard 7.62×54mm R that is ubiquitous throughout most Russian firearms. It’s role was more of a supporting weapon in a squad for longer engagement ranges, not as a rifle to reach out great distances via a sniper and spotter. But to qualify to use this in training, one had to be proficient at hitting a target at 875 yards 50% of the time. Something which he never came close to in basic, all those years ago. But he always thought highly of the rifle, and this posting gave him the opportunity to use one.

And as far as he was concerned, with regards to everyone else’s sobriety levels at the base, he WAS the designated marksman. Occasionally he would walk down the half hour to the hamlet and set up his empty ration cans in the windows and roofs. Going back to the berm and use them for target practice. He wasn’t sure, but with all the practice maybe now he could qualify for the title. Setting up and shooting those cans.

Maybe he would do that today, he thought.

As he rested the rifle on top of his legs, looking out into the rising sun over this abandoned corner of the world, he thought he was comfortable with this posting. It was quiet, which was all he ever wanted in life. Guarding something that had no importance as it rusted away in the north, nothing ever happened here. And that was fine. He had enough, and all this time to think was welcome respite.

>>31775921

He was a little saddened as the clouds rolled in. Quite faster than they usually do, he noted. If it was going to rain, he should probably head back west and patrol underneath the dry railroad bridge. But he started to worry as the clouds kept moving at even faster speeds.

His concern only grew as the entire environment shifted into a green hue. In his years being at this posting, he had never seen weather as severe as this. Quickly tuning his radio into the base channel, he paged them. But static interference was the only answer he received.

Concern grew into a small fear as the rapid strikes of thunder could be heard, and a low, almost animalistic groan emanated from everywhere.

The sky shifted red.

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>>31775929

He was unsure of what was occurring, but decided that shelter was a good idea. He jumped over and into the driver's seat, rifle on his lap, as he desperately pumped the pedal and keyed the vehicle. Long seconds passed by as the UAZ refused to cooperate. Another key turn and pump, and he felt the motor kick in. And a disturbing quiet settle onto everything.

He stood up in the seat, rifle in hand, to get a look down the berm towards the hamlet. It would be tricky, but it was probably faster than running.

And then a blast hit him, pushing his rifle into him and throwing them both off the vehicle. And shortly thereafter flipping the precariously parked vehicle over on top of them, burying both Orest and his rifle.

The SVD rifle would never be checked back into that quiet southern checkpoint. There was no one left to check it back into.

On the morning of June 10th, 2008, an unexplainable emission occurred within the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone. All military and scientific personnel perished, while reforming the landscape and wildlife into a zone that defied scientific laws and understanding. The size of the exclusion itself expanded 5 kilometers in every direction. This came to be known as “The Second Disaster.” And it would be half a decade before groups of people would ever be able to set foot into this hell again.

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>>31775804
Need a little bitter so the sweet tastes better, lad. Be patient.

And he didn't abandon her. I was actually planning on having her leave him but that literally all came out in one big... blob.

But it's an inevitability of those with more than waffegeist. Those whom have to walk into combat can really only take one or two with them, not the small family they built up over the years, cared for.

One or two will be carried into the field of battle. The rest will be left behind. It's an inevitability.

Plus I left two years between the end of pic related and what I wrote earlier. Thirty seconds is a long time, let alone two years. In thirty seconds, people decide to get married, declare war, kill, save lives, and anything in between.

Thirty seconds is a long time for a human's actions. Besides, it was intended for anon to come back home after the fighting since it's basically a racewar.

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>>31775746
>Not that advanced
Yeah, sure. Making me double check my supply of chaplain-blessed 7.62x38 isn't advanced. Keep telling yourself that while I figure out what to put in your box.

>>31775782
Here's my rifle, if you've not seen it before.

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>>31775944

And that's it for this part.

I know it's sort of a repeat of the intro, but it's important to set up the backstory for the region and why things are the way they are.

Maybe the setting is a bit more obvious now, haha.

As far as people complaining that they're losing their writings by accidents; I recommend writing everything in google docs. It auto saves constantly, as almost as much functionality as word, and overall a really good word processor.

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>>31775782
PTRfag here, and here's Judith. She does have a carry handle; it's just tough to see in this shot.
How I act in public settings: when among friends, I'm kind of an archetype Aries. Just follow all of the Facebook memes about the zodiac and you'll pretty much nail me.

>>31776017
Reminds me, I just ordered a OD HK91 forend and bipod from Poland. Just need to get a PTR ordered.

>>31775782
My stories aren't really meta at all, but I'm only really writing about guns I own, sans the M1911 from the update I just posted. One day...

I don't really see anything wrong about writing in meta, so long as you can make it compelling to the audience.

>>31776036
>OD
>Poland
Muh dick. That sounds great! Just remember that jungle green will not match. Some fag in /brg/ made that mistake with his stock. It made the gun look cheap.

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>>31775782
I'm not sure I count as important, but I go by Myshka here.

And here's Natalya. It's a bad photo of her, but.

Kay is a Springfield M1A with the walnut stock and a stainless barrel. I mentioned her in the last story.

>>31776068
They look like they match, but I'm not sure what PTR uses for their GI grip. I'll just order some HK originals to match if they don't.

>>31776085
PTR uses the OD.
As an SCfag, I can confirm this. I'm just currently living in MS.

>>31773587
>Chucks and Erica go to Corpus Christi! There's literally jack shit here except fishing and booze.

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>>31776085
>>31776116
I demand photos when you get it mounted.

Here's a really recent photo of Kay before I oiled her stock and some tigerstripe I own. Still need pants and a matching boonie hat.

>>31776147
tiger stripe ftw.

>>31776144
Sounds about right. I'm just south of Memphis.

>>31773587
>Coming soon: Chucks and Erica go to Corups Christi!

By the description you posted afterward, that just sounds like the typical day for those two. Getting drunk, fucking and a doggo doing his job.

Please write it.

>>31775804
I'll write you something sweet, then? Every time I start writing after I have alcohol in my system it turns into bittersweet or just feels.

>>31776167
It's a repro, original tigerstripe is way too fucking expensive.

>>31776147
Will do, senpai. Gonna take some family photos right now since it's been like 6 months since the last time. And then I'm gonna probably clean a few of the lesser used rifles. I'm getting to lazy about it.

Uhm... I think ya guys misunderstood things a little here. It was more of a story-mash up / meta thing in combined. Geists would be there, parking lot would be filled with humvees, a shitty old station wagon, and maybe a BTR-90. Restaurant or some shit would be fills with /k/ommandos, people dressed in milsurp or uniforms (be that military ones, French maid or school uniforms)

So, like stories, and the house...? Or is that bad?

>>31776206
Amen to that. I hadn't cleaned Violet in weeks until I started browsing these threads and suddenly felt guilty. Went through and cleaned every fun in the house I could get my hands on until the solvent hanging in the air got me sick.

>>31776232
>Natalya in a french maid uniform

I can only get so erect. If anyone wants to try their hand at writing her/have their geist mention her at some point, they can.

>>31776232
That's gonna be a lot of FALs.

Write it.

>>31776232
just as a heads up the maid uniforms have camo

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>>31776232
Sounds like fun.
Also here's Maxie, my 92FS.

>>31776262

If you don't have an FAL in a Rhodie brushstroke outfit I'm gonna be offended.

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>>31776287
>upside down
God damn it Hiro fix this shit already.

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>>31776305
Oh right, I need help naming my P220. Any ideas?

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>>31776301
>NORTH SOUTH EAST WEST

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>>31776301
i used to own a mondragon and colt commander on 38 before neighborhood went full anti on me and called the cops

>please don't remember me that the aussies have better gun laws than the tacos

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>>31776287
>>31776305
>>31776321

>the ritual is complete

>>31776332
I'm so sorry man. Tonight I'll write you and >>31775804 something sweet. Maybe Natalya learning how to use a gas stove and cooking.

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>>31776287
We need WG names?

Forte the FAL and Mami the FNX 45.

They need newer pictures.

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>>31776232
>waffegeists in french maid outfits.
oh christ man, write it.

heres my Lara.

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Fuck, i just realized it will be a bit tricky to get details of everything right. The great thing about this is that it can drag on if necessary. So, if i fuck something up, tell me and perhaps i can do something about it. Sounds good?

>>31776355
I just want comfy Natalya and anon interactions. That motherly comforting in the first story was too great.

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>>31776232

onee-chan is the one that wants to do maintenance on her JagdTiger in a maid outfit.

I had written a little meta-story in which you woke up everyone by firing off Annie in the basement range at 6am, and then as breakfast is being make Kryptid (/k/ommandos vs wild) knocks on the kitchen window and claims he shot Bigfoot.

Pictured: Ruby the 10/22 along with the Ortgies semiauto and H&R 251 Sportster that have not yet been named. Ruby has a Weaver V22 optic, while Sporty is running a Tasco 4x15.

>>31776410
Then cooking. Anon teaching her how to operate the stove and oven, an awkward brush and then coming back to discover "holy shit rifles can literally put food on the table".

Maybe drunken cuddling.

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>>31776425
he means the bussnies of the cafe m8, altough i'm not sure if the dudes were supossed to wear the maid uniforms and the lasses the butlers clothes

>i'm confussed

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sorry for being spotty with writing or writing only one or two parts per thread

I find myself unable to plan ahead like falwritefag and jtfag when I do my stuff

>>31776232
DO IT

>>31776319
Shelley

>casefile 5 continue

Chris found herself laughing at the sight of Dave fumbling with canvas and tent poles. "Don't get too excited. The ground rules are still in place, you know."

"Yeah, I know, I know... I'm just tired and want to get some shuteye, that's all."

"Sure, sure. That's definitely the reason." She found herself laughing again at his reaction, and tossed her sleeping bag and a couple of guns into the tent. "Quit blushing, you look like a faggot."

Dave scowled at her. But it was hard for him to keep it up as she crawled into the tent halfway, keeping her rear end out just enough for him to stare. She messed around with something inside the tent, keeping her butt bobbing around at him for what almost seemed to be a deliberate amount of time.

She went all the way inside and turned around to poke her head out. "What are you standing around for? What, do you WANT to sleep outside?"

He snapped himself out of it, and joined her in the canvas shelter.

She was lying on her back on top of her sleeping bag, tucking her AK lovingly into the corner of the tent. He was almost jealous at how she touched the rifle, running her hands over the wood, feeling at the little divots of the wooden stock and following the grain... her fingers slowly running over the buttstock... her other hand petting the synthetic plum handguard... stroking it...

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey, Earth to Dave! Did you fucking fall asleep sitting up?"

>>31776319
I go off serial numbers and corresponding letters.
>>31776343
PRAISE THE /K/UBE

>>31776450

I forgot about the cafe. So it's just serving up coffee, Tourist's Delight, and tendies with a cosmoline dipping sauce?

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>>31776392
And here is Jinx my Tavor. If this is upside down I swear to fucking god...

>>31776487
it's one of the dishes we could have 2 menus one for "normies" and other for /k/omandos in broken russian and graphics taken from old soviet art

>>31776487
>inevitably, lots of slavic waffegeists
>no vodka available

>>31776232
>>31776240
>>31776017
>>31776319
>>31776332
>>31776369
>>31776380
>>31776457
Gimme descriptions of your giests. I may be in the middle of the move, but I might as well draw them with camo maid outfits. Lil Chiappa can wait.
>>31776425
>onee-chan is the one that wants to do maintenance on her JagdTiger in a maid outfit
Might as well draw Lily inna maid outfit workin on the jagdtiger

>>31776487
Black Rifle Coffee and every MRE field mixture we can think of.

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>>31776232
Am I the only fag who doesn't care for the whole "maid" thing?
I like the "fallen angel" look...
>you can cast your stones now

>>31776392
Sounds good.

>>31776487
forgot cosmoline ramen and spoop hunter chili.

>>31776515
kids meals come with a stripper clip of 7.62x54r

>>31776539
draw her how you see fit mate. always figured that given the short foregaurd and long barrel shed wear a half shirt or some shit.

>>31776553
that makes sense.

>>31776515
>/k/ommando menu
>Moscow Special
>sardines, crackers, fish eggs, a pickle, bottle of vodka, and a cup of stew
Please tell me one of you has this picture

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>>31776343

>>31776573
I laughed so hard I shot Dr Pepper out of my nose

>>31776580
Glad to be of service

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>>31776514

I vote for Jinx to be a terrible cook, for obvious reasons.

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>all this fun posting and i need to leave
>mfw

>>31776564
monthly special comes with a random weapon part, collect a complete set to build a raifu! (Several sets from which the staff picks a random part)

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>>31776539
PTRfag here, Judith is pretty much a carbon copy of Jiisuri, but her bust is a bit smaller. B cup, but she's wearing a heck of a heat shield, so her bra is heavy padded. Her taste in clothing leans to toward lighter side of goth/punk.
>>31776573
Fucking kek!

>>31776599
The obvious reason being?

>I can totally cook, boss. Don't work about it!
Twenty Minutes Later
>WHERE'S THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!?!

>>31776567
I don't, but that genuinely sounds good.

>>31776539
She's tall... Like, really tall. Probably 6'2". Deep brown/red hair that takes a sorta golden tone if the light hits it just right, it's messy but down to mid-back. She tries combing it, but it never really changes anything.

Her eyes are an extremely dark blue- in low light they look black, but in the sun or a well-lit room, blue they are.

She has a good build on her- some muscle, not much chub anywhere. She's got some tit, but not much- like a C-cup? Reasonable but not oh god. Same applies for her butt, but she has a good figure.

She's covered in a bunch of little scars all over her body from little little nicks and cuts, one major one across her cheekbone.

And she can speak English fairly well- if you read my last thing I wrote, that sort of not-quite-perfect sentence structure is how she speaks. The accent is very heavy initially, but depending on how long it's been since Anon got her it'll fade to be noticable but still understandable.

>in the middle of the move

Be safe!

>>31776630
>"random"
Sure. I've gotten 4 bakelite AK grips in a row.

>>31776539
>Forte
5'8", brunette, shoulder-length ponytail, athletic build, huge legs. Has the arrogance of a paratrooper due to coming with me on several jumps and constantly wants to do the kind of shit you see in PatMac videos.

>Mami
4'3", blonde, over-the-shoulder mom braid, zankuro loli build (have fun looking that up). Passively suggests purchasing new accessories and ammo whenever possible.

>>31776487
>using cosmoline as dipping sauce
>not eating it straight from teh can

>>31776520
I'd be distilling vodka from potatoes

>>31776539
I'm actually a poorfag with just an AR-15 and a bolt action .22 built from a kit
but I named the AR-15 "Erin" and I call the .22 "Willard" after my late gramps. I don't think Willard would have a geist. And Erin is literally just a factory standard M&P Sport II. So I don't know how that would work.

>>31776573
top fucking kek

>>31776457
"Uh, no, no, I was just thinking about something..."

She sighed and laid back down on her back. "Well, stop thinking and get down here with me." She didn't have to ask twice.

He got down on his back, right beside her, and turned his head, looking at her expectantly.

"What," she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Do I have to lead you in everything?"

"But... you said ground rules are still in effect..."

"That just means use your goddamn common sense. If something gets too creepy or weird, I'll just stop you with a knee to your nuts. Sound good?"

"Uh... yeah... I guess...

She smirked and rolled on top of him suddenly, touching her nose to his and taking him totally by surprise. He focused all his mental energy on preventing his manhood from impaling her then and there.

"What's wrong? You're not liking this?"

"It's not that... uh... just..."

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so, what shokan has inadvertently done here is made my job a lot easier.

t-thanks

and this might have a little slow start

>>31776553
I'm worse, I don't like any of it.
>Complete and utter sourpuss and kill joy

>>31776656

I'll trade you for a Tapco stock.

>>31776682
Your welcome chap!
>and this might have a little slow start
Same with me, moving in a new home has cost me missing out the funposting n stories here. I could barely even lurk.

>>31776682
I can wait! It takes decades to make good whiskey, I can wait a few hours for a good story.

>>31776679
>vodka from potatoes
Good.

>be a hungry traveller
>end up on some old highway
>no cars, but the road is good and the trees are green
>notice a diner at teh side of the road
>it's late and you're tired anyway
>don't question the vast number of military vehicles in front from humvees to a Willys jeep to a T-34
>just go in for food
>maids
>What.
>Take a seat at a corner table, open the menu
>everything's in Russian. Oh god.
>except one.
>there's an item on the menu in English (thank god) called the Long-term Special
>"What is that?"
>"Oh, it's something to eat if you're gonna be going to sleep for a while!"
>"Oh, okay. I'll have that, it is kinda late."
>massive can of cosmoline gets plunked down on the table
>and a spoon

>>31776639

fear of ovens

>>31776759
Would we accept payment in ammo or money?

>>31776786
Both, I'd imagine

>>31776786
Money preferred, I'd imagine.

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>>31776782

>>31776630
this would be the best.

>>31776786
>he doesn't accept military grade boolets
come on man.

>>31776539
i mean i said draw her as you wish, but she's about 5'6, mid length chestnut brown haired girl, mid length hair, kinda freckeld, small acne scars from wear, bunch of bracelets and shit cuz rail cover.

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>>31776539
Rose is a little shit that stands 4' 8" (standard 13 yo loli frame) and wears a short OD sundress with a black floral pattern that runs around the bottom. Her mag pouch gives her a tan bow in her hair, and her sling gives her an OD wraist belt that trims up her waist line. Her combat boots are black and shiney. Rose's haircut looks like this:

Judith stands at 5' 8".

>>31776755
No backzies.

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>>31776679

I meant this
>>31776830
for this
>>31776782

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>>31776782
We'll need some H&Ks to help with any gas system equipment

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>>31776853
>HK guns aren't gas operated
>Jewish guns are better with "gas" than them

>>31776865
top kek

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>>31775782
I-Is there room for a wigger carbine?

>>31776918
i'll include as much as i can do while keeping a reasonable quality level. I like to focus on some hints, and the utter confusion and despair of the ATF agent

>>31776539

Ruby:
>black hair with black hair band
>blue eyes
>gray-framed glasses
>pale complexion
>looks to be 25-35
>petite frame
>wearing a simple-looking walnut-brown short-sleeve dress

>>31776759

Do we get to pick our military vehicle? I want either an M1009, or a 1982 Mazda B1600 technical in Rhodesian camo.

>>31776918

She's the cashier, greeting all the customers with a hearty "Sup bitches?"

>>31776931
I feel loved, thank ya ;-;

>>31776940
Chain smoking Black & Milds while taking orders. Love it.

>>31776539
Maxie: 5'0", standard 13 loli wears a trench coat, sun glasses, sports shorts, tank top, and black boots
Jinx: 5'6", a slim tomboy with a nice firm booty, average boobs, and a "special" fox tail, and glasses.

>>31776918
Why is your mosin running around without a bra?

>>31776657
>zankuro
My man, you are indeed cultured

>>31776997
That's how she was when I rescued her from a gun show in Augusta a few weeks back. Poor thing has had the barrel shortened, front sight post removed, and the barrel was in terrible condition. Spent hours with a wire brush cleaning the bore.

Planning to get her a new stock that's not cut.

>>31776918
Post her description m8

>>31776786
We artyom now!!

>>31777045
Post their descriptions as waffengeists, I'll draw em as well

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>Looking up cleaning guides and opinions for research
>Planning on picking up specific bore guides for my guns
>Can't figure out how to clean rifles with poor bore access like my VZ and M1 safely
>Afraid to go from the muzzle
Why is cleaning so hard to figure out?

>Jimmy has been staring at his screen for several hours now
>it isn’t interesting at all
>more mundane ATF bullshit
>some sad fucker selling cigarettes to minors
>booring
>people brewing booze on their own, and endless fucking debate concerning if a shoestring can turn an old Garand into a machinegun
>Jimmy looks at his cup of coffee
>it’s empty
>Jimmy looks at the clock
>Seven
>fucking
>hours
>left
>The depressed man gets out of his chair, and heads to his boss’ office
>The man is very much the boss type. A little fat, a little sweaty. The kind of man that would look at his cousin and say “yeah, after a few beers maybe”

Hey boss
>”whatcha want Barry?”
I’m not Barry
>”I don’t care. Why are you here?”
Is there any field work left. Any at all?
>”Why the fuck would you want that?”
I just do. Anything?

>The fat man wipes some sweat off hs forhead, and grins at Jimmy

>”Anything?”
Yes. Anything
>”okay”

>The fat man gives him a single sheet of paper. Its a photo of a house, with some things written next to. Phone number, how to get there, and a take away menu

What’s this?

>”its a… resturant. And a museum And a shooting range, i think. Go there, have lunch and report back all you see”

>Jimmy snaps the paper out of the fat mans hand and hops down to the garage, not wanting to give the man enough time to take the offer back
>The ATF is obviously not cool enough to get these new Chargers, so you settle you hop into a very run down Crown Vic and set off
>The house was situated in a very rural area
>Jimmy notices how that the closer to the house he actually gets, the stranger the vehicles look
>Not the city dwelling Priuses anymore, and not even the raised trucks
>First sign of warning was a red truck, with large white letters written in the back
>There was at least 5 people on the bed, one of them standing with a large MG
>The truck is spewing out black smoke, like it is being fed coal
>a Humvee is overtaken a few minutes later

>>31777045
I'd love to make a business of rescuing guns from bubba.

>Jimmy turn off the big road, and onto the gravel path that leads up tp the house
>Its a large, two story house, with some auxillary buildings around it
>There is a very strange collection of things outside the house. A few artillery pieces, a german half-track, one UH-1 helicopter, what appears to be an M47 Patton tank and…
>It’s not until the red truck ant the humvee rolls up and stop next to these vehicles Jimmy realizes that that was in fact the customer parking
>not even the normal cars here were very normal
>Mostly very muddy and green painted 4x4s, all of them with an MG mount on them
>Some two decade old hatchbacks filled to the brim with… god knows what
>a massive station wagon, with some skull with antlers on it’s hood
>Jimmy wasn’t very good in biology, but he was very sure he’d never seen anything like that before
>And if this in fact was the customer parking, what is the plane with bid red stars painted on it, and how did it get there?
>Jimmy is a little confused at this point
>And the actual museum was on the back of the house
>There were children playing outside
>Jimmy had never played “siege” in his life, and he saw way to little off it to get the appeal
>Then again, Jimmy had never played mortar baseball either, so his opinion is worthless in this matter
>As he is halfway to the house itself, a large door slams open in a large single story connection to the main house
>Out of it, two rather small girls are pushing a black motorcycle/ sidecar combo
>one of them is dressed fairly normal, but the other one is wearing what looks like some white-green school uniform
>The two climbs up and in it, and has to help each other out to kickstart it
>The bike wakes to like, and starts moving at breakneck speed down the gravel path
>The girl is the sidecart is holding what looks suspiciously much like a stack of pizza boxes
>Jimmy is a little uncomfortable at this point, but the boss is going to pay for his meal, so he can’t chicken out

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>>31777230
Come to Mississippi.
>If yer uh-salt rifle, thirty-aught-six, shotgun, or ree-volve-ver dusn't have a leo-pold scope that's at least 16 power, it ain't nuthin'!

>>31777261
Jesus fuck these are the idiots that weld a trijicon on a SKS aren't they?

>>31776679
"Oh, I see what's wrong here," she said with a sly smirk.

"Y-you do?"

"Yeah, you're liking this TOO much, aren't you?" She pressed up against him, slowly moving her hips from side to side over his.

Dave closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "For fuck's sake, Chris..."

She stopped moving and gave him a strange look. "What is it?"

"You're just looking for any excuse to knee me in the nuts, aren't you..."

She chuckled. "Relax, if I'm doing it to you, I won't hurt you for the inevitable reaction..."

"Comforting..."

"I said relax. Come on, open your eyes and look at me."

He did so, and ended up staring back into her eyes. Her face was still right next to his, their noses just barely touching. Her shit-eating smirk had faded to a slight smile. He noticed for the first time ever that her cheeks were lightly freckled.

"What are you looking at, faggot?"

He couldn't help but smile back.

>>31777279
Poor Dave. So much abuse he has to put up.

>Before he can put his hand on the door, a man exits
>Or Jimmy things it’s a man, bit hard to tell behind all the mismatched green gear
>And the Gas mask
>the man is holding an AK in his hand, and is carrying a large backpack

>”they told me to get out”

>He had sorrow in his voice
>Jimmy is scared. If this guy wasn’t fit for this place, how could he be?
>He opens the door
>Its a large hall, with a few large chandeliers in the cieling. They are all mismatched
>There is maybe 60 or 70 perople inside
>There is a lot of noise, cheering singing, arguing, all drowning out some soft jazz played in the background
>There is also… gunfire?
>Jimmy thinks there is gunfire
>muffeled
>He takes a mental note

Ya eatin here alone?

>A woman is approaching him, dressed in what does slightly look like a french maid outfit.
>All parts that should be white is instead a rough green fabric

>"uhh, yeah. Just some food"

>the woman looks at jimmy, with a hint of disappointment, and suddenly cheers up

>"dont worry hun, we got lotsa seats, get yourself a table and ai'll be right along"


what i have so far. IS this just drivel or ya'll ant more?
>with camo

>>31777303
It's rough but can be polished up in pastebin for reposting. I'm liking it so far m8.

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>>31777274
>a megatron?!
Yes.

>browning knives is the best knives to skin a duck with! Everyone has me skin their ducks fer them cuz muh browning knife!

>Stream light is whut the Navy SEALS use!

>yew can't shoot a durr with nuthin' smaller 'nah 300 Win-Mag

>Ayy-kayz'll blow thuh durr in half!

And my personal favorite:
>that-thurr's a nice uh-salt rifle yew have. (My PTR) Yew should put a scope on it.
Fucking... can y'all just not see or something???!!!

>>31777303

it has promise, Annie-chan. keep going!

>>31777347
I do see a lot of anons add scopes to their PTRs in /brg/, so it's not like that is out of the question

>>31777279
>>31777294

I kinda feel bad for Dave too. It's gotta get better though, right?

>>31777303
>Before he can put his hand on the door, a man exits
>Or Jimmy things it’s a man, bit hard to tell behind all the mismatched green gear
>And the Gas mask
>the man is holding an AK in his hand, and is carrying a large backpack
>”they told me to get out”
>He had sorrow in his voice
kek

>>31774205
Too many chiefs
that is to say, if you story the meta, people will be dissapointed to be left out
I realize its been a bit since you posted this, but hell
I left for lunch and came back to 150 posts.

>>31777303
You have PTRfag's attention.
>PTRfag is already drinking
>PTRfag has spoken

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>Disassembled my M96
>It has the pre-recall bolt without rollpins in the rear section and the easy to break rollpin piston stop
>Every shot I take with it is another chance to damage the rifle, and there's no more support for it
So this is what it means to be mocked by the gods in a huge bout of dramatic irony. Write a story about a gun with a chance to break itself, and find that your own gun could break itself.

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>>31777049
>>31777127
Sam, Hi-Point 995TS
>Hazel eyes
>Jet black, shoulder length hair worn in a ponytail
>Looks mid teens, stands roughly 5'
>Not fat, but definitely thick
>Black woman's track shorts (the short ones), white vans shoes, pink hoodie with the Hi-Point logo across it

Eloise, Glock 19 gen 3
>White / faded silver eyes
>Black hair, just below the ears lengthwise
>Standard loli build
>Black Glock t-shirt with jean shorts and sneakers

Sascha, bubb'd 91/30
>Dark blue eyes
>Just below shoulder length light brown hair
>Mid to late twenties appearance
>Light blue t-shirt with cutoff sleeves, tied up to midriff
>Blue jeans and camo hunting boots, faded camo mesh hat with a fishing hook on the bill


>>31777303
Keep goin, Annie, shit's 10/10 so far

>>31777385
Well, they are made for optics.
I just never hear anything positive about my irons, and half the time I have to teach these idiots how to even use them.
>plus I'm always stuck sighting their rifles in for them anyway.
I charge, but I'm still salty.

>>31777458
Gotcha.

>>31777385

I think his point is that not every rifle need a scope. I used to get a lot of that in Wisconsin too, people wondering when I was going to put a scope on my Mossberg. Like, motherfucker you don't need a scope to put a slug in a deer.

>>31777483
Well, if any gun is worth using, it's have a scope in the scope on a scope with a scope.

>>31777518
So an eotech hybrid on top of a hybrid teloscopic?

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>>31777534
>Tried to be silly regarding scopes
>There are actually such scopes
Well fuck me.

>>31777518
Don't forget your 38 flashlights incase them durrs try to break in.

>>31777303
Moar.

I need something to make this CQ shift pass faster.

>>31777347
If you can't shoot with irons you can't shoot with a scope.
>>31777518
>>31777534
REEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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>>31777403
as this guy says, it is going to be kinda tricky to do this without leaving anyone out. I'll try my best but it's still going to be tricky. And, time consuming i am afraid

>>31777591

i'm working on some new stuff too, dad

not one-shots - 10/22 stuff

>>31777751
A Grand tour of the house should give everyone at least some limelight

>>31777751
>10/22chan is told to wake someone up for breakfast
>kicks the door open yelling "Wakey Wakey! STABBY STABBY!

>>31777303
i'll start a cap?

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>>31777838

baka, stabby stabby isn't for family.

besides, it's much more effective to use other things~! y'know, like air horns, or pump-action CO2 stress ball launchers with a 300' range!

>>31775683
I sure hope Anon gets Ida back somehow ;_;

>>31777785
Keep it up, I'll make sure to get you one of those Tollhouse Icecream sandwiches from the PX when I'm done.

>>31777983
Me too ;_;

>>31777866
ehh, reading though it, its kinda rough. If i have the time, i should kinda rework it or something

>>31778012
We have time.

>>31777979
>baka, stabby stabby isn't for family.
But you threatned Oniichan with stabby stabby

>>31778012
take your time man. let m know what you decide.

>>31777989

you're the best!

>>31778017

that's different! you started it!

>>31778035
y-you wanted to stab me?

>>31778071
He means me, you're Oneechan with e, I'm Oniichan

>>31776144
>needing anything but fishing and booze
>not driving up to San Antonio on the weekends to party
>not going to South Padre for naked beach shenanigans
>not shooting fish from a sailboat with your cutie pinay 1911

>>31778106
Nude beach is still there? I head it got shut down.

>>31778012
I, literally, have all day.

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>>31778106
Yo chucks, did you still wanna discuss a collab? I'm recouping from last night, but not too hungover.

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>>31777979
>C02 launcher
There's an answer to such things you know.

>>31778071

Absolutely not! anyone that threatens onee-chan, though... (*ﾟ∀ﾟ)つ=lニニフ

onee-chan (big sister) is you
oniichan (big brother) is shokan

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>>31778151

I'm pretty sure once 10/22 got out of the box very violent things would happen to you, and you'd have brought it on yourself

>>31778162
But I never threatened Oneechan, you misunderstood my response. I was joking about teasing you

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>>31778151
>make sure you poke a hole in the top so she can breathe.

>>31778176
All is fair in a loli war.
>>31778211
I knew I forgot something.

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>>31777979
Why not 50mm CO2 cannons with rebar sabots? Those are fun too ya know.

Doing family photos. Someone help pls. There's too many.

>>31778378
stitch multiple to gether, or lay them on a large area like a bed or table.

>>31778419
It's the process of pulling them all out and unsocking them(lewd). No one man should have this much raifu.

>>31778438
>too much raifu
NO SUCH THING

>>31778438
>No one man should have this much raifu
But that's incorrect.