/wfg/ Writefag General- war, war never changes edition

File: you know the drill.png (118KB, 478x413px) Image search: [Google]

118KB, 478x413px

make new bins
update highligths
re-upload some bins that where taken down

File: COLD.jpg (346KB, 800x533px) Image search: [Google]

346KB, 800x533px

In case you didn't catch it last thread
>>33397640

>be AK
>try hard for senpai every day
>senpai doesn't really care about you
>thinks you're boring
>spends all his time away looking at rare guns instead of you
>one day senpai finally puts you in front of a camera for the world to see
>pours disgusting mud all over your action
>try your hardest to please senpai
>fail embaressingly in front of everyone
>senpai lets the Wehraboo hose you off
>cry in gunsafe all day because you'll always be slavshit while the ARs all laugh at you

No Sunshine.
Chapter One: Make ready.
>Adam had a future once. Not this continuous situation in which he didn't know enough to call the situation his life, but a real, bright, prosperous future. That had all disappeared before he'd been along for enough time to recollect.
>Adam didn't worry about such things, though, for he need not. Adam didn't concern himself for that which might have been. He need not. He didn't know, nor did he concern himself with where he came from. For he need not. He did not concern himself for the well being of others, or even those close to him. For he need not. He did not concern himself even for WHO he came from, for he did not. For all these things and more, Adam need not concern himself, in the dark fact of the matter he needed not concern himself with these things and had not the most vague conception of such things. He only knows to do what he's told, to recognize things he's told to recognize, and to do what he's told to do to said things. He need not concern himself with excessive luxuries like the skill of reading, not for recognition of signs, and CERTAINLY not for literacy, or literature, for what use did a seventeen year old soldier from a slave army in ancapistan have of such traits.
>Adam could strip his M16 to its parts, he knew when it was clean. He knew it would be dirty after firing, that the barrel was hot, he had concepts of all these things and more. These were the skills of a child slave soldier of ancapistan, fighting under a platinum subscription warlord for as long as he could really remember. The affair was as simple as such a thing could be, he fought or he didn't eat his daily meal of cigarettes coffee grounds and if he was REALLY lucky, hardtack.

>>33398732
>Adam took a moment to scratch the scars on his back from when he was taught the skills he'd need for his place in the world before he continued scrubbing his M-16's bolt clean, clean and yet cleaner as he asked himself whether the marshal would beat him for his incompetence in cleaning the weapon, already scrubbed to the point that no residue remained.
>Adam inspected the weapon thoroughly, insuring not the slightest hint of residue remained before putting it back together, though he really couldn't say or remember how, as he found it was more helpful to just close his eyes and let it happen.
>Adam opened his eyes and found that the previously fragmented weapon was not assembled, a magazine inserted and a round chambered, before he instinctively began his evening's post cleaning ritual of thirty pushups and thirty situps.
>Adam finished his ritual and counted the number of cartridges that he had in his personal inventory, which numbered in at a hundred and twenty total. He never grasped the idea of the number system, and due to no need having ever been present, he in fact couldn't count past four-hundred and twenty.
>"ONE ONE SIX!" Came the call. Adam's head straightened up and he bolted out the door to the sounds of the voice.
>"ONE ONE SIX, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!" Came the voice again as Adam reached the courtyard, apparently late to the role call.
"PRESENT!" He yelled as he Jogged into formation and came to rest.
>"PRESENT ARMS FOR INSPECTION!" the marshal yelled as he walked to the front left corner of the formation and began snatching weapons and inspecting them, demanding round counts and telling the younger children how much ammunition to draw from the armory.
>"One one six, what's your round count?"
"One hundred and twenty."

>>33398195
I didn't sign up for these feels ;_;

>>33398195
That just makes me feel sad, man.

>>33398736
>"Draw a hundred eighty from the armory. Good cleaning, not a spec of carbon anywhere. Impressive." The marshal remarked before offering the rifle back and nonchalantly continuing his walk down the formation, eventually calling the formation dismissed, prompting the child soldiers to the mess to pick up today's extra special ration of not cigarettes, but merely dried tobacco mixed with coffee grounds and a hardtack biscuit.

Chapter Two: Before The Sun That never Came.
>Adam stood on the perimeter of the camp with rifle in hand. Looking to the east. Years of attacking just before dawn and being attacked just before dawn had taught him to have his head up and on a swivel at that time, and had conditioned him to being up before the sun, though one of his many scars was incurred when he asked why they didn't simply attack in the night, when the doctrine of attacking just before dawn, nearly universal in this land did not predict attack.
>The sky was dim, with the light of the sun reflecting from the clouds onto the world of Adam, but not yet glaring or cresting the horizon. Adam stood looking in this direction for hours at a time every morning here in Ancapistan.
>"Don't you think it's a bit early to be up?" Came a female voice from behind him. Adam turned and looked at the girl, couldn't have been older than fourteen or fifteen, apparently drained of all joy. Her hazelnut brown hair eyes said everything Adam needed to know about her.
"If there's an attack, it'll be at this time." He answered, amending, "I don't see you here, you don't look like you go here. Are you supposed to be here?"

>>33398743
>"Don't you think it's a bit early to be up?" Came a female voice from behind him. Adam turned and looked at the girl, couldn't have been older than fourteen or fifteen, apparently drained of all joy. Her hazelnut brown hair eyes said everything Adam needed to know about her.
"If there's an attack, it'll be at this time." He answered, amending, "I don't see you here, you don't look like you go here. Are you supposed to be here?"
>"I don't know. The warlord is my husband." She answered. "We just married yesterday." she added as she stood beside Adam, looking as though she'd been disheveled and exhausted. She looked at him and then out to the horizon. "What are you looking at?" She asked.
"The sunrise."
>"It's pretty." she offered, trying to look into the horizon, but really looking at Adam.
"Aren't you a little old to be the warlord's wife?"
>"..."
"No sunshine today." Adam said, turning on his heel and walking away.

>>33397612
Ban High Capacity Assault Cats!

>>33398195
You know when you think of the world in geist terms, Ian must break a lot of hearts.

>Madsen LMG
>always tried her hardest and got there before anyone else
>nobody ever noticed her or cared no matter what she accomplished
>gets forgotten by the world at large
>passed around by collectors for years as a curiosity
>nobody shoots her
>nobody loves her
>nobody appreciates her
>is being sold at Rock Island Auction
>finally someone shows interest in her
>takes her and cleans her up and makes her look her best
>shows her off and tells the world how great and underrated she is
>disassembles her with gentle, loving care
>then he's gone
>she gets sold
>goes back into a private collection to gather dust as an "investment machinegun"
>never sees him again

To the /u/k/ fellow in the last thread, I think AT has don't something like that

>>33398943
And maybe I can make a post without my phone being a nigger. *done and not "don't"

File: C7fsFg5W4AI3apZ.jpg (262KB, 1467x2048px) Image search: [Google]

262KB, 1467x2048px

>>33397612

>>33398943
I have some, and depending on what happens today, more might come

File: tgr102.jpg (105KB, 405x606px) Image search: [Google]

105KB, 405x606px

My brother told me a while back that the US military actually 'borrowed' or used some of Tom Clancy's ideas from his novels -- in particular the heartbeat sensor.
I think it was (originally?) featured in the Rainbow Six novel, however I cannot find any sources on the hearbeat sensor or any other 'Clancy Concepts' that were later brought to life by the military.
Does that mean it's all classified?
Or can some anon shed some light on this?

>>33399354
The simpler and more rational answer is that your brother was mistaken.

>>33399439
Yeah, agreed. Just curious.

>>33398757
fuck you, my tactical kitty is essential for all 15 of my ready-made home defence situation -scenarios

File: madsen1.jpg (88KB, 960x540px) Image search: [Google]

88KB, 960x540px

>>33397612
Okay I put my story as a post but Ill put it here since I'm a nofunz lurkerfag that hasen't been on /k/ inawhile.

>Be in Cambodia 2011
>See only AK-47 or AKMSU used by police/military
>Come back to Cambodia to live.
>See M-16's rarely now by police/military
>I am walking by a temple one day and I see a Police officer who must not have the best connections with a Moist nugget talking on his cellphone.
>lolwut.jpg
>I think a handgun would've served him better but thats more costly than a nugget.

>>33398821
Seems like Brazil uses Madsen LMG to this day senpai no worries.

>>33398750
>Adam stood in his place in formation. The formation however, wasn't there. Most of the soldiers of that formation had years since died or moved on to other positions in the organization, having been prepared for such matters, unlike Adam, whose mental apparitions caused by a diet consisting of stimulants both potent and mild, with hardtack for calories wrote him off as a potential administrative asset.
>Adam would have been in formation at this exact time years ago, rising before the sun to prepare for attacks that would come and pass ten minutes before dawn. All his habits, all his skills and even his limited knowledge of the english language had been beaten into him over most of his seventeen years.
>"Adam! You're up early."
"I'm always up this time, marshal."
>"So you are. Why do you do it?"
"I don't know. I guess I always have. No sunshine today."
>"Thanks, good to know. I'm gonna get the rest up. You'll wait here, yes?"
"Yes, Marshal."
>As Adam had predicted, the day was a strong overcast, which was nice, because he wouldn't have to worry about glare, a factor he would have to deal with, even if he didn't know enough to worry about such a thing when he found himself in the only place he ever felt familiar anymore.

>>33399765
>Adam found himself jumping from the back of the truck and onto his only remaining home. The only place where the fact that no one knew his name, or that he didn't know anyone else's didn't matter. The battlefield.
>"SOLDIERS! FORWARD!" An authoritative man screamed, pointing toward a hill before them, All the soldiers charging up it, firing at sandbagged soldiers of similar ages who bedded down in their holes and returned fire or flinched away from harm.
>As they advanced up the hill, it wasn't long before the young soldiers in the defensive positions had been wiped out, tagged firing into the horde without enough volume, or purged when their assaillants had gone over their cover and fired into the holes, while a jeep bypassed the now defeated positions, an officer beckoning them to an advance on a compound over the hill.
>As they reached the compound under litttle resistance, adam began firing into firing ports, waiting until he saw flashes to ensure he hit the shooters, then came the farmhouse, where he decided it was time to clear, since no fire came from it.
>Adam pied the corner and saw three men, who looked up at him pointing his M-16 into the center of the room at the and letting loose a long sweeping burst of fifteen rounds, then placing bursts into all three to enure their deaths before reloading.
>Adam first cleared around the entrance, as he was trained, then advanced inward, checking stalls. as he got to the third set of stalls turned the corner, finding two young girls cowering in a corner. Couldn't be more than ten.
>Adam lowered his weapon, smiling at them.
"Hi. Why are you hiding in the corner like that?" He asked.
"Are you okay?" he inquired.
>Adam decided he would have to gain some understanding from them if he could. He placed his rifle on the wall, noting the abnormal look on their faces fading a little.
"Is something wrong?"
>Adam decided to stand back and was rewarded with the further fade of those facial expressions.

>>33399815
>"We're scared." Finally came the voice of one of the girls.
"Of what?"
>"You. please back away."
>Adam backed away from them slowly, deciding to reassure them
"I'm backing away. See? I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to understand you."
>"Understand what?"
"Why you're afraid."
>"We're afraid you're gonna kill us."
"Please don't be afraid of me. I only do this because I'm afraid they'll hit me or kill me if I don't."
>"Okay. We w-wont be afraid of y-you anymore." One of them said, moving their arm to adjust their posture.
"What's it like to live here?"
>"They feed us, look after us. They don't hit us if we aren't bad. Did they hit you if you were bad?"
"I don't know if it was good or if it was bad they hit me for. They hit me if I didn't shoot good, they hit me if I didn't clean my gun, they hit me if I didn't kmow how the take it apart and put it together fast enough."
>Adam decided he could walk to them and kneel next to them.
>As he took his first step one of their eyes grew wide.
>Her arm whipped out from behind her, something in it.
>Shots rang out while she simultaniously screamed "Stay away! STAY AWAY!" until it stopped.
>Adam looked at her in awe as he realized she was holding a gun, and had shot him eight times.
>Adam walked to the door of the barn and sat down, clutching his chest and stomach, where blood flowed freely from his organs and looked at the sky.
"I hurt." he said, knowing no one would hear it. Knowing no one would come help him.
"The sun. The sun is shining." he groaned through the searing pain, he felt cold, and then warm.
>As adam looked to his body, now saturated in his own blood, he began to feel the warmth, and looked to the sky, seeing for what would be the last time, the sun.
"At least there's sunshine." He said to himself, coughing up a small amount of blood as he said it.
"I need a nap. I'll be alright*cough* when I wake up"
>Adam looked up and closed his eyes, letting sleep and fatigue take him.

>After much thought you decide that you need another milsurp firearm, this time a pistol, after some searching you find a store with a few Husqvarna m/40s in stock, you'd prefer the original design but they are scarse so the cheap Swedish copy will have to do.
>Thanks to your recently acquired Curio & Relic -license you don't have to travel all the way to New England to get your gun/have it transfered to a local gun store: you can just have it delivered to your house.
>After anxious wait the day is finally here, you almost slam the front door in the delivery guy's face when he rings the bell, you sign the receipt and wish the man a good day before closing the door and walking to the garage, Hilja would probably kill you if you got gun oil and/or any other unwanted gunk on any of the surfaces she has just cleaned this morning.
>As you open the package you have to rub your eyes a couple of times before believing what you see. There's a loaded chamber indicator, the Swedish version never had that. You take a closer look and lo and behold, there's an SA -stamp.
>"Bought the Swedish copy, got the original, for once I can be glad that what I received is not what I ordered", you say as you begin to field strip your new L-35.

>You wake up as the box you are in is opened, yet another idiot has bought you thinking you are some cheap Swedish copy, you wonder how long it'll take before he grows tired of your quirks, all of the previous owners gave up pretty fast after no gunsmith could find anything wrong with you.
>Waitaminute, did he just call you "the original"? Could it be...
>"Hey, what are you doing you idiot?!" You exclaim as soon as you notice that he's field stripping you.

>>33398943
>>33399333
AT, Thoth and Kek must both fucking love that idea.
(What was the title of the one that anon was talking about?)

>>33399677
But Brazil is a shitty third (or is is second?) world country. They probably don't properly take care of their guns.

>>33399997
love what idea?

>>33400000
>depending on what happens today, more might come
AND AGAIN WITH THE FUCKING GETS! They're even zeros this time!

File: 1460411162127.png (3MB, 2000x2391px) Image search: [Google]

3MB, 2000x2391px

>>33400009
it's very hard to say what will (and what has) without sounding like i am making shit up.

But uhm... several contributing factors point out that there will be some things happening

>>33399935
>You freeze as the pistol disappears and in its place a young girl appears, she's wearing a simple 1940s -style dress, has a curly, blond hair and sky-blue eyes, she's absolutely flustered.
>"Oh, hello, who might you be?" you ask the girl, you already know she's a waffengeist, you are actually asking about her name.
>"Are you stupid? I'm your pistol!" she shouts at you.
>"I figured out as much, I was asking about your name."
>"...I don't have one" she says and pouts, this one is going to be a handfull...
>"How about Aino?" you suggest.
>"Why do I have to be named by a stupid owner?" she asks while still pouting.
>"What is all this ruckus about?" a new voice asks, it looks like Hilja heard the shouting and came to see what's going on.
>"Looks like we have a new familymember" you say while gesturing at the girl who is now looking at Hilja with big eyes.
>"Mama!" she shouts before charging at Hilja who catches her and lifts her up in her arms.
>"...What?" you asks, stunned, Hilja doesn't respond, instead she rubs the girls head and asks.
>"What's your name sweetie?"
>"...That idiot named me Aino."
>"Well, I think it's a nice name, but why are you calling him idiot?" Hilja asks. Uh-oh.
>"...He started stripping me as soon as he got me out of the box!" the pistol says with tears in her eyes, Hilja looks at you with murder in her eyes.
>"...I didn't know she's a waffengeist! I just wanted to check her thoroghly while giving her a proper cleaning!" you try explaining the situation, Hilja looks at you suspiciously before saying:
>"In any case you scared her, the least you can do is give us a ride to the mall so we can get her some clothes, she's going to freeze in such a simple dress."
>...Yes ma'am."

>>33400019
Well, even if it doesn't, thanks for the consideration.

>>33398943
(almost forgot.) Thanks.
[spoiler]I would still like to know the title of the work that you're talking about.[/spoiler]

File: fighters.jpg (349KB, 2000x1328px) Image search: [Google]

349KB, 2000x1328px

>>33400035
i could answer for him, even if i am somewhat ashamed for shilling. There is some /u/ stuff in the normal AT story, but it's not that much

also, under the "Misc stories" section, in the AT folder in ths sticky, it says [LEWD] in large letters over one, try that one maybe

have some planes as an apology for my reckless shilling

File: Smug #201.jpg (99KB, 384x258px) Image search: [Google]

99KB, 384x258px

>>33400047
>it says [LEWD] in large letters over one
Lewd, eh?

File: 1454266504638.jpg (2MB, 2830x1890px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 2830x1890px

>>33400057
no bully if its bad. Hands on experience has increased significantly since

File: 1488941720664.jpg (160KB, 894x894px) Image search: [Google]

160KB, 894x894px

To /k/atch a predator

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

This is the end of part 3. this is more of a setup end than anything else. Glad I could post this now, I'm going on a week-long trip and I won't be able to write. thanks for staying with this story for so long, I really appreciate it. as always, comments and feedback are valued...

Froganon here.
Sony I had to let the story where it was for a while. I wrote more today because I actually need to.

Dumping now. Pastebin is already updated.

Running out the door and into the thick fog, feeling the cold bite your skin and the air freeze your lungs, you simply want to empty your head and not think. Life until now hasn't been all nice but you feel you're finally managing. It has been quite the summer and the coming fall is promising. You're nearing the end of your village when you decide do continue running instead of turning back and doing your usual loop. There's nothing out there except fields, fields everywhere, and almost no traffic. Sometime a lone car will race through the nothingness, well above the speed limit.

After crossing the bridge to the south you end up in what's left of an old forest, with an asphalt road running in the middle. You drive through here everyday when going to university but you never came on foot. It's kinda nice when you find the little trails swirling in what's left of the woods, the sound of engines and tires is dampened and you can rest a bit. You sit against a tree and listen for a while before getting up again. It's nice and all but you can't just stay here for hours.

While running back you choose to stop at the post office to see if they know the girl, Jane.
The old lady behind the counter did see a girl coming in to deliver a package some days earlier but that was it. The description does fit the one that brought you your rifle. It also does fit an friend of yours but she's in Germany for now and there's no reason she would have come here for beans. Exhausted, you make your way home slowly while thinking about Jane. You saw her twice, didn't say anything insulting but she screamed at you just like you said that she's completely nuts and should get checked.

Scrambled eggs, potatoes and some vegetables took care of our angry stomach so well you had to sit down for a bit afterwards. You always wondered why the brain does run way slower after you eat but you never came as close to understand why as today, sloppily sat on your couch just waiting for time to pass. You begin to doze off when someone knocks on your door. You get up slowly, grumbling and get to the door. She's waiting there and asks "I just wanted to say sorry for yesterday. I went a bit overboard. but you shouldn't say such things so lightly !". You need a moment to process the thing and formulate a low "Yes, ok, sure".

Putting the dishes away to make some room, you begin to make some tea. You don't drink coffee and not knowing what she likes, you just went with what you usually drinks. Setting two fuming mugs on your table you ask : "So ? Care to elaborate ?"
She looks strange for a moment, she looks as if she doesn't know what exactly yo say. She gets a hold of herself and answer :
" I wanted to apologize. For yesterday. What you said about us, about me... Nobody ever did and I was shocked. I thought perhaps you were crazy, perhaps I ought to get away for you. I boiled inside and it was the little push that sent me overboard. I know I shouldn't have screamed at you like that but I couldn't help myself. It had to get out. So...yeah...sorry..."

That was it. You went and made a girl feel sorry because she screamed at you. The moment was strange, the atmosphere was tense and you found yourself in the same situation as she was in moments before, not knowing instinctively what you should answer. You're not digesting anymore, not since you got up to open the door, but your brain still has trouble processing everything. You think for a bit while she eyes you with apprehension. It gives you the sensation your answer is more important thant you think but you brush it aside as your mind playing tricks on you.

" You know, my dad told me you should apologize only when you regret what you did from the bottom of your heart. If you said what you thought was right and the other guy got angry because it went against what he believes in or because his feelings got a bit harmed, you shouldn't apologize for that. If he can't take it, then I'll have trouble living in our world.
I don't think I'm sorry for yesterday. I just said what was on my mind. But you're making me feel bad to have put you in such a sad mood.
Let's just say I realize I should have read the mood better ?"

You thought your answer was good, and quite well worder. She obviously thought otherwise and she would let you have a piece of her mind. You tried to play it cool and calm and it just came around to punch you in the face.

" You're kidding ? I said all this and you're just going to say "Oh, yeah, I don't care, it was a small mistake" ?
- If I don't stick to what I believe in, what am I worth ? Would you like someone that doesn't has any belief by which he lives ? I don't think so. You don't seem the type that does
- How would you know what type I am ? We hardly spoke three times, and two of them are us getting angry at eachother. Why did I come here if you're just going to brush it off like it's a fly flying in front of your nose ?
- Ok, ok, just...cam down. Geez you've got quite the temper you know ? It's not that I don't care, it's that I won't betray myself. take it or leave it.
- Why don't you make an effort and apologize ? It's just a word !
- Because I don't know you."

It looked like you just punched her in the guts. The colors faded from her face and her gaze went a bit to the right, looking far away for a moment. She stands up and say to you while getting her coat on.

"Well I believe I'm going to be around for quite a while. And being in the same place, we're going to run into each other quite often. We should get along don't you think ?"

Your turn to stand dumbfounded. You didn't really expect a girl you don't know to say that to you, even less a girl that screamed at you a couple of hours ago. You just stay here, getting a hold of yourself, before finally agreeing to it and leading her to the door.
It's the most logical answer you say to yourself. But you can't help but wonder if it was for the best or the worst

The hours left before night turned into days before the week-end and those weeks turned into months. It became usual for you to meet Jane on saturdays, sometimes when you went to the range, sometimes when you went running. You had the trench nightmare once since then and you were quite surprise that you could remember it the following morning. You didn't learn much but you began to ask yourself questions.
You didn't spoke about it to Jane but you saw she saw there was something amiss. She did what she could to cheer you up but you had your thoughts taken by the scenes of men dying of gas, torn asunder by mortars or having their skull split open by entrenching tools. You didn't see her for a month after that. But she didn't seem to bear any grudge toward you the next time.

It wasn't the first time you both went to town to spend a bit a time in a city instead of in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, France. Today was the first day of the Christmas Market. Well, it opened on early December so almost a week earlier but you didn't have time then. And, as strange as it seemed to you, you wanted to go there with her. You had the idea when she told you she was not familiar with the town and did not know the region very well. You figured it would be fun to bring her along and show her around while everone would be busy around the little outhouses, looking at things to buy or just for the sake of it. You didn't like that aspect. You went there because the atmosphere was nice and relaxed.

Snow didn't fall but the "mini-chalets", painted in red with snow-imitating figures, did bring a smile to her face. She looked like a child that was discovering what Christmas was all about. She sure did act like one, running from a shop to the other, looking at everything with shiny eyes. You soon lost her in the crow but you didn't worry. She struck you as someone that could take her of herself very well. You sat on a bench a bit away from the rumbling crowd and just savored the smell of waffles and the sight of girls wearing christmas hats. Some were walking around, close to their, you supposed, boyfriend. Your heart tightened at this sight. You could remember quite good a day you came here with a girl you had a thing for. All seemed to go well, you sat on a bench under the sow, drank hot chocolates to get some warm back, even sang a bot after hot wine did its thing on both ou you. Sadly it never went beyond it and you seldom speak to her nowadays. Ironic how life can twist things around.

Here she was, half-running half-walking towards you with a little christmas woolhat and something in her hands. She stopped and sat beside you in silence. You were about to ask her where she went when she handed you a waffle with chocolate on top, saying "For you. The man gave me two and I can't eat both". You look around for a shop where a man would be selling waffles but there's none in sight. At least not this side of the crowd. You take a bite. The waffle is light but with some big, crunchy sugar inside and a coating of chocolate. It feels the stomach and the appease the soul.

"You look happy. It's better"
You try to word an answer but the only thing you can do is making sounds that only put you more to shame
"You're sitting on a cold bench, biting away at a hot, free, waffle covered in chocolate. Isn't it better than staying at home and sitting all day long ?
- I could say the same thing to you, you have chocolate all over your face and your hat is falling off your empty head" you manage between two bites.
She blushes a bit and adjust the hat after cleaning her face.
"Didn't know guns were so slef-conscious" you add.
She sends you a reprochful stare. you could hear her voice screaming "Don't talk about it here you moron !"
"No one heard me, there's too much noise, what with that crowd. And besides, if you look at me like that when I talk about it, I'll end up thinking you have a screw loose somewhere. Not that it's not the case mind you, but I almost believe you're a normal girl now
- Can't you just be nice sometime ? You're always poking fun at me !
- He, if it's making you laugh under that iron mask of yours, it's worth it, don't you think ? I'm not the only one staying in his little world that's sitting on this bench with a waffle. You should relax sometimes too.
- I can't. I would like too, but I can't go out if it's not with you.
- Is that a confession ? Because if it is, you sure have a strange way to say it !
- It's not, moron. When I say I can't, I can't."

It gave you something to chew on for a while you eat the waffle. You know she reacted harshly when you mocked the Gesit business, and you made some research on your side. There was no evidence it existed, but there was noone denying it either. No evidenve then, except those stories telling of gun owners living with their gun turned girls. You read those quite often, but you always thought it was a quite great imagination that gave life to those tales. Now you were wondering. That night, she appeared and dissappeared like that, *snap*. And you never saw her before you got your gun.

"Ok, I believe you" you said.

You could swear silence felt on the whole world at that instant. Or perhaps you were so stunned by what you said that you didn't realizz she was looking at you with eyes as big as plates.

" - You what ?
- I believe you. When you says you can move only with me outside. When you almost broke my eardrums screaming you were real and all.
- Why ? Why now ? Just like that ?
- You heard of Pascal's bet ?
- No but I don't see why you're talking about it when...
- Listen. Pascal was a french mathematician. He placed a bet on God. His reasoning was like that : If God doesn't exist, then the pious and the atheist don't lose anything. If God exists, the pious goes to Heaven and the atheist goes to Hell. Thus, it's better to believe in God because there is only benefits to doing so.
- Great. What's the matter with it ? It doesn't have anything to do with what you said !
- It does. I'm betting on you being a Geist. If you are, then I have a gun and a girl at home. If you don't, I have a gun at home and a serious mental disorder. You could hold waffles that are real. Thus you are real too. Because I'm not imagining eating a waffle here.
So I believe you... Jane"

You felt clever explaining Pascal's bet. You also knew it was a shame to quote a guy like him for a trivial matter such as "Does the girl next to me exist or is it just my mind playing me like a damn fiddle ?". You didn't apologize to Pascal. It was a good comparison and it got the point across. Speaking of which, you turn your head to your right.
There she is alright, gulping down her waffle without any car in the world wether the chocolate is going on her face or in her mouth, small tears running down her cheeks. She wouldn't be gulping down a waffle if she was sad, you think. And her eyes were shining just as they were earlier today when you brought her here.

Perhaps it was for the best, you think. Deep inside you, you wonder if you will have to wait a lifetime until you find out wether you were right or wrong. You sure as hell don't want to die to get the answer.

And that's it for now. Perhaps I'll write more tomorow.
As usual, please give some feedback and tell me what you think.
Also as usual, sorry for my sloppy english, I hope it won't be too hard to understand.

File: 1471671822227.jpg (115KB, 1349x1800px) Image search: [Google]

115KB, 1349x1800px

>>33395826
Henry's about to go into the bocage, isn't he? Jump right in just before D-Day. Of course he'd be nervous. Here's to hoping he and Mary make it out alright. And Gloria must be cheating. Never playing 7 card stud with her.

>>33396843
The Pale King story has female operator and male Geist.

>>33398195
>>33398821
You're trying to make me hate based Ian, aren't you?

>>33398821
That L85 review though... Very rough on the old gal.

>>33399884
That's kinda really heavy. The AnCap world isn't just happy NAPs and McNukes. Pretty good stuff here.

>>33400028
Ha! That's pretty nice. I'm glad to see the return of this old war horse. Hopefully this will be a nice story filled with fun and a marked absence of pesky neighbors.

>>33400047
>Nighthawk
>fighter...

>>33400402
Women, eh? Simon, though. Poor guy can't catch a break, can he? I know that things don't really go quite as smooth as we would like them to, but that guy has got to be pretty damn unlucky. I'm surprised he didn't end up getting killed earlier. But at least he's got a hot redhead who'll help cover up his activities.

>>33400708
Hey, welcome back, man. Glad to see you again. Really glad to see your story back here. It's refreshing to have a normal, modern day Geist story not in America or a warzone. Interesting dynamic developing between the man and rifle. Can't wait to read more.

>>33397847
Where the fuck do you live, man?

Today's low is 70°F and the high is 95°F

>>33400708
just fantastic. love the dynamic.

>>33400894
>>33401197

Glad to see you like it ! Having some time on my hands, I'll try to write more tomorow.

Is there anything I should be working on ? Pacing, speeches ? And what do you mean by '' the dynamic ''?

>>33400028
>During the drive to the mall Aino sits on Hilja's lap, they formed a bond immediately, the sight would be rather qute if Aino wasn't glaring at you for the duration of the drive.
>At the mall you simply give your card to Hilja and stay at the car, and after what feels forever the two return. Just as you open the driver's door Aino rushes to you and hugs you.
>"I'm sorry" she says, you pat her head before lifting her up and putting her in the back seat, something which she immediately protests.
>"I want mama!" she demands, looks like Hilja's adoption as her mama is a fact now.
>"Sitting in someone's lap in a moving car is dangerous" you try reasoning with her, in the end Hilja sits in the back with her, now that she's in a better mood she's adorable.
>"Is papa always so strict?" she asks, almost causing you to drive off the road.
>"Yes he is, so you must be a good girl or he won't take you to the range" Hilja replies, you get the feeling she already made that threat at least once before while they were shopping for clothes. In any case Hilja keeps surprising you over and over again.
>"Strict, me? I am nothing compared to mama's rule of the household" you interject, knowing full well what Hilja's response is going to be.
>"Aand guess who's going to bed without as much as a nighcap?" she retorts with a smile.
>"See what I mean?" You weren't planning on drinking much tonight anyway so no harm done...

>>33401220
>Is there anything I should be working on ? Pacing, speeches ? And what do you mean by '' the dynamic ''?

I think the pacing is good, and the dialogue flows well.the dynamic im liking's the back-and-forth feeling, very conversational. almost banter.

>>33400000
WHAT DO THE NUMBERS MEAN, MASON?

>>33400708
>Pascal's bet
Well, now that you mention it...it makes sense.

>>33401220
Also, about your English: you have plenty of minor mistakes, but no major ones. I can liken it to the difference between Bell and Belle, in French. One letter makes one hell of a lot of difference (in reference to snow and sow). Keep going, man.

>>33400894
>reply anon strikes again!
Speaking of Pale King, when is that motherfucker going to write more? That was the story that actually got me into this thread and, by proxy, writing my own.

File: 1455907232544.png (117KB, 326x248px) Image search: [Google]

117KB, 326x248px

bump

File: hurrrr.png (30KB, 716x155px) Image search: [Google]

30KB, 716x155px

kinda off topic but ive been looking to be has guns again and found this jewel on the catalogue

>>33402299
Can you even into guns in Mexico?

>>33402351
yep i can altough permits alone are retardally expensive

>>33402351
no, it's like super illegal, that's why they have so few murders

>>33402368
>The difference between a MexiCAN and a MexiCAN'T is about 5 bucks

>>33399884
That was pretty sad. Nice write up there.

What do you writefags do when you run out of gas for your story?

>>33402595
Just live. Trust me.

>>33402627
Care to elaborate?

>>33402635
I get inspiration from what going on around me. I try to take a walk of drive a bit in places I don't quite know around my village. Reading books, no matter the subjects, helps me too.
Bits of what I write comes from what I wish happened instead of what really did. Sometimes, it's what I'd like to do in the future.

I believe all stories, every single one of them, started as a part of reality that the writer want(ed) different.

The best inspiration is the life you live everyday. Because when you tell stories, you try to make them believable. And even if sometimes reality seems a bit far-fetched, it's the most believable basis there is.

I play the dialogs in my head to feel if it's something I would say in this situation too.
If you (or your friends) are not going to say it no matter the context, why would your guy say it ?

TL;DR : I use what Ilive everyday and what you wished happened instead as a basis. I play the dialogs myself to be sure they're not plainful imagination

File: wot_challenge_accepted_banner_tib_002.jpg (41KB, 684x243px) Image search: [Google]

41KB, 684x243px

>>33402595
i have like 4 so i tend to just work on something else, or play tanks

File: 1460308214800.jpg (190KB, 442x650px) Image search: [Google]

190KB, 442x650px

>>33397847
>Tfw no good snow this winter
>Tfw no slippery cruises in my aw11

That better not be a photo you took.

>>33402299
Is that a backwards mag?

>>33403059
yep

>>33403059
Because it's an HK clone, they need to put the mag backwards so the backwards loaded ammo faces the right way.

>>33403075
Just curious, but how are the laws on American nfa items in Mexico.

>>33403119
Oh, what about ptr's? I can't afford reverse 308 brass.

File: 1455316274950.jpg (209KB, 1000x700px) Image search: [Google]

209KB, 1000x700px

>>33400402
Holy fuck, that got close. And Simon really is a machine for being able to take such punishment. Can't wait to see what'll happen next

Did notice there were some grammar mistakes here and there in your newest section. For examply, this one sentence "Simon shut the Ashley’s door, told her the address, kissed Kimber and left." Otherwise, nothing glaring.

Keep it up, /k/ris Hansen, and enjoy your vacation!

>>33403184
i can get a SBS with out any extra paper work or a SBR on 22 cal

>>33403032
>AW11

AHHHHHH i'm jelly

>>33400894
>That's kinda really heavy. The AnCap world isn't just happy NAPs and McNukes.

The NAP doesn't really apply as much as one would think in ancapistan, given that its inherent lawlessness gives way to an absolute darwinism in which those with power abuse those without, denying that any abuse they inflict violates the NAP while at the same time hiding behind the NAP to prevent any retribution from being inflicted on them. It's not all about using ultra overwhelming force in reactions to utterly microbial breaches of the NAP, it's also about the use of power and capital to gain all else with little to no competition unless whoever fighting you can manage the sysiphean task of getting big lest they get crushed. It's about the child slave armies, deathsquads, mcsecret police and those subject to the amorality of the mind in ancapistan. That's why the capital is rapetown, that's why the meme features these extreme uses of force, and that's why it's frequently a chain of events leading to many deaths instead of just those involved when the mcsecret police™ hunt you down for contaminating the mccocaine farm with your mcnuke.

I kinda wanted to write something dark, and I really didn't want to contaminate the already dim storyline of The Night Reich that I have planned.

File: 2017-03-23 16.07.36.jpg (1MB, 1632x1222px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 1632x1222px

>>33403346
As much as I love them, mine is a death trap. Maybe I'll be able to buy a "new" one before mine kills me. I've been wanting to put a 2gr in one for a while.

Either that or a Miata with a 350/383.

I'm gonna visit /o/ for a bit.

>>33403848
/o/ is sadly a cancerous place

But that aside, doing that with a miata would be pretty neat

>tfw stuck with fwd wagon

>>33401101
>>33403032
That was a photo I pulled from Google that I used as mood setting for my story. That's one downside to catching up on stories via pastebin, you miss out on the visuals. Thankfully it isn't so cold where I am.

>>33403981
>>33403848
>mfw imagining /o/ if it were as good as /k/

fucking hell, men

File: 1471672605727.jpg (112KB, 1015x741px) Image search: [Google]

112KB, 1015x741px

>>33401220
Some of the English is a bit off, but I can still get the meanings. And your English is better than my French. The dynamic is how the characters relate to each other, how their relationship is. It's a pretty good one, I think. I can see the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

>>33401324
Obeying traffic laws is one thing, but withholding the nightcap? Has Hilja gone too far?

>>33401436
I wish I knew. I really enjoy reading about slotting cultists.

>>33403691
That's pretty interesting. The dark underbelly of the AnCap future really looks grimdark. I really did enjoy reading your story. I think you got dark in there well with a healthy dose of heavy. I actually felt some extra weight on me while reading.

File: FINLAND STRONK!.jpg (103KB, 768x864px) Image search: [Google]

103KB, 768x864px

So. . . A story with these two would be nice.

Finally have a story ready, I'll paste it in a bit, sorry for not participating more often in these threads. What happened to the sticky?

File: crabgat.jpg (62KB, 270x259px) Image search: [Google]

62KB, 270x259px

>2022, Pt. II (http://pastebin.com/11rhHctE)
December 11th, 2021 would have been an ordinary Saturday in Lake Bianca, FL, if I wasn’t spreading gravel at St. Anthony’s Catholic. St. Anthony’s had a policy of letting screw-ups like myself cut suspensions, detentions, and things like that short if you did a bit of yard work for them. Luckily the courtyard we were assigned to was smaller than anticipated, and I was with some friends, rather than the random people they usually send you with By lunch time, we were free. The rest of the day, Marcus, Zach, Phil & I sat around our usual picnic table, in the shade by the gym. The grass around us was still a dazzling emerald green. My side of the table faced the baseball field, and over Phil’s head I saw Spanish Moss dancing in the soft wind.
“Can’t believe I got suspended over that crap.”
“I mean, you threw Andrew, I dunno what you expected…”
Zach, chuckling, took out his sandwich (turkey & american cheese with mustard, as always) out of his lunch bag, and grinned at Phil co-conspiratorially. We were talking about an incident we caused just last Friday; Andrew was a (no longer) rumored drug dealer who Zach had thrown against the whiteboard in the computer lab, which landed all four of us out here.
“Fucking moron had it coming.”
“Why, cuz you heard he’s a dealer?”
“No, cuz he’s a dealer messing with Cassie.”

>>33407042
Cassie was Zach’s longtime crush. He’d probably been hot for her since before I met him; she was the main object of worship in his life. She was really cute, olive skin, nice figure, and kind, if not a little aloof. She hung out with a certain clique that had their polar shoulders turned ever so slightly, fatally, in everyone but Zach’s opinion, in our own’s direction. It was during lunch Levi, a Junior in JROTC with him, told him that someone saw Cassie and Andrew together coming out a bathroom. It just so happened all four of us had computer lab with Andrew the very next period. It also happened that Andrew is a 5’2 skeleton, and Zach was a 6’3 jarhead-to-be who vowed to enlist in the Marines the day after he graduated. After he was thrown, 2 of his buddies ran up on Zach so quick Marcus almost didn’t get there in time to help. By some miracle another rushed in too, from the hall. I gave a few good jabs but he shoved me down, and was about to stomp me against a desk when Phil socked him in the windpipe. I had a perfect angle. Phlegm never looked so beautiful. All of this happened in about 20 seconds, and by the time we’d been broken up it’d been a minute. We were in deep shit; that kid who rushed in’s was breathing funny, they had to rush him to the hospital. Andrew left for the hospital too, but outside a few broken ribs, he was fine. If they hadn’t found drugs in their lockers we’d’ve definitely been expelled. As it was they let us off with 2 weeks suspension, but that had us in trouble too; we were missing out on midterms.
Everyone but Zach cracked up and probably laughed for what felt like an hour before Marcus slammed his hand on the table with glee and cackle-shouted -
“YOU BEEN TRYIN’ TO GIT WITH HER SINCE 8TH GRAYDE, SIMP! YOU OUGHTA BE QUARANTINED! WE ALREADY CAUGHT SUSPENSIONS, I DON’T WANNA CATCH ONEITIS!”

>>33407071
Marcus collapsed into another fit of giggles (with Phil & I close behind) and almost fell off the bench. Zach, who was a shade of red usually reserved for cherries, tried to cut through the banter.
“The fuck is oneitis? Y’all’re jus’ jealous you haven’t had a woman that wasn’t ya mother in ya lives.”
It was Phil’s turn to smile now, “You say that, but when I think about the CD incident back in Freshman year I don’t mind so much”
I laughed and threw my hands over my face. “The mixtape? Jesus Christ.”
“Look, I was 15. You guys were doing stupid crap too. Remember when Marcus wore-“
“ARRIGHT ARRIGHT!”
“I’m not done ye-“
“MOVIN’ ON!”
__
We finished up with lunch, and walked to the parking lot. Marcus & Zach were still going back & forth, only now they were talking about hunting or something. Whatever. I went up to Phil, who was putting his shovel in his trunk or something.
“Still on for tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“You buying stuff? Should I bring cash?”
“Didn’t you get the mail? I’m brewing stuff. Shit’ll be low-key tonight, bring your own stuff if you want, though.”
“Mmkay. See ya.”
“Yeah.” He turned over to where Marucs & Zach were still lagging behind. “MARCUS! WE SAID WE’D BE BACK BY 2!” Phil had carpooled with Marcus, since they lived close, and pretty far away from the school.
“FINE!” He jogged over to the truck and looked over at me. “See ya , Luke.”
“See ya.”
__
“Hey Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Headed over to Phil’s house tonight, you mind filling up the gas tank?”
“No problem, I was just headed out for groceries anyways.”
“All right, see you.”
“I’m not headed out right now.”
“Oh. Whoops.”

>>33407110
I walked over to my room and fiddled with a radio on my muddled desk until she left about a half an hour later. I ended up taking a break, and making a sandwich and waiting until my mom came home. When she did, I helped her bring the groceries back in, and when I finished, I asked her if I could go out yet.
“Wait until after dinner.”
“I already ate.”
“Oh. Well, have fun at Phil’s then. Drive safely!”
“Don’t worry Mom, I will.”
___
Anyone that lives, or has lived in Florida for a while knows that driving is a necessary evil. Most of the roads don’t exceed 50 or 55 mph, and everything seems so far away, though in another state (and probably in most other countries) it’d seem like you’d get there in no time. The roads themselves were not much better. In trademark Floridian humidity, Concrete and Asphalt were some of the only materials you could *really* be sure wouldn’t erode in 10 years, but give it 25, 35, 45 years (and most seemed like they’d been around that long) and it really wasn’t as nice anymore. I had to deal with all of this in my drive to Phil’s house. Took me about an hour to get there, and if not for the tangerine glow of of the streetlights on pale grey concrete roads I might have fallen asleep.
When I pulled into his driveway, it was about 7:45. Phil’s house had a huge front lawn, filled with pines trees so tall and skinny you could still see the front of his house. His house itself wasn’t that large, but it occupied a huge piece of property. I stepped out of my mom’s car and hopped up his back door and into his porch.
“AYYYY LUKE!” Marcus was stepping out on the porch, with a solo cup in his hand, grinning like a mad man with his arms outstretched. Behind him I saw Zach & Phil in the window of a weathered eggshell-colored door.
“Luke, come in, ur like, haff an hour late, bro.”

>>33407122
I walked in to the living room. Persian-style rugs lined the floor, looking elegant against the stained wooden floor and the cinnabarian walls For some incomprehensible reason, the fireplace was lit, making the room incredibly warm. The whole room seemed to have a fiery theme, in a comfortable way.
“You guys finally got ‘round to fixing that hole whoever-it-was made in the wall?”
“Not even a week ago. Mom was pissed.”
“Wonder why? Pour me a drink.”
Phil got out a plastic pitcher filled with a clear-ish liquid that reeked of alcohol, and a red solo cup. I made a mental note I’d have to call my mom before I got too plastered.
__
We stayed up all night, and I think it was the second or third amount of fun I’d ever had, ever. We moved down to Phil’s basement to play some video games, play some “nu-trap” or whatever Phil called it, and drink Phil’s brew. It was just after midnight when Zach passed out, much to our amusement.
“HE GONE!”
“Hahaaa…” I’d tried not to have too much, but at Phil’s insistence, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to climb up the stairs again, and I wasn’t that much a lightweight. I tried to remember whether or not I called my mom and whether I could get reception.
When he was done trashing Marcus in Super Smash Bros 5, Phil threw his controller down and stood up with half a horrible wobble.
“I’ll shhow you guys somethink cool inna bit…” Phil wandered upstairs, to who knows where.
“BETTER NOT BE YOUR DICK!”
When he got back downstairs he had a stupid grin on his face, and an all-black pistol that he swung around.
“PEWPEWPyuuuu…AHAHAHaaaaa…”
“AYY! WHATCH WHERE YA POINT DAT”
Phil gave a crazy chuckle. and put his hands on his hips. “C’mon Marc. ‘M jus’ plain. ’S jus’ a gun. Dad got me it on las’ Saddurday. Got like, 15 bulles innit.” He sat down on the couch to my right.

>>33407134
“Maan, can I holdit?” I’d never held a handgun before, and I’d decided that there was no better time than right then to try.
“Yeah, jussasec.”
I turned back to the TV. Marcus was playing another fighting game. It looked like it was Mortal Kombat again, or something, I’m not sure. I wasn’t a huge fan of Mortal Kombat, but to tell the truth Phil had showed me it two weeks ago an-
The world blew up. The world blew up. The loudest sound I ever heard, the loudest sound I’ll ever hear exploded just to my left. It must’ve took me at least a minute to come to my senses. When I did I felt warm, and wet, particularly on the left side. I’d thought Phil had thrown up on me, and was about to yell “’S’GROSS M-“ until I saw my arm painted with blood and a few small brain chunks. Now it was my turn to throw up, liquor scorched my insides. Marcus must’ve too, because I tried to get up and slipped on something and landed in Phil’s blood.
“WHAHT THE FUCKK!”
Marcus was beside himself. Screaming and hollering all kinds of shit, he grabbed me and dragged me upstairs like a rag doll, as if he hadn’t drank at all. I didn’t completely come to until like 5 minutes later. I was lying on couch. Marcus was bawling his eyes out on the phone somewhere above me, in the kitchen. Where was Phil? I last saw him in the basement… in the basement he’d…tears burnt in my eyes.
I was like this for what felt like an hour. You don’t really know how to process someone close passing away, never talking to them again until it happens. It’s a unique every time… I’m not sure I can put it down into words. Just know (as if you didn’t) its a feeling that doesn’t really leave you. I thought I knew it when my granddad passed when I was 9, but… it stays until you die, probably.

>>33407162
I sat up on the couch and before I had the chance to look forward the world fell apart again. It was like the whole world was in this huge car wreck. I flew head over heals onto my hands and fell back down on one of the Persian rugs, which I threw up on. I got to my feet, somehow, and Marcus charged into the room.
“WE GOTTA GO!”
I stumbled outside and ran to my car. Somehow, I still had my car keys on my person, and for reasons even less explainable, Marcus was following me. He hopped in the passenger seat, and I took off down the road. He was trying to explain something to me but I wasn’t focused on him. I wasn’t focused on anything. I was just trying to push my car as fast as I could go.
Fortunately, drunk me left the emergency brake on, preventing total disaster. Marcus and I knocked our heads against the dashboard. I opened the door and fell out again.
I stood up and looked out and saw… smoke? Smoke? Why? And why so much? The car alarm made my head hurt. I swerved my head to the right.
WEEOWWEEOWEEWOWEOW
Flashing blue and red lights appeared on the horizon. Maybe the cops could help? I still had a grain of hope left. They’d understand, surely, after the earthquake and everything; I still had a few grains of hope that my life could continue left.
The policemen pulled up, but the police car was instead a van, and the 2 men who ran out of it were not dressed like ordinary policemen. They wore navy blue, sorta tactical looking vests, with helmets both with the words POLICE stamped on in white. One was older, fairly overweight and holding a rifle, pointed at the floor, I noticed. His partner was a foot taller, and lighter.

>>33407004
i just droped the link since it was like.... 4 posts long now it should by longer

>>33407195
and i forget my name like an idiot

>>33407177
“OK, y’all put your hands on your head, now. Read ‘em his rights, Brian.”
“Right. Ok, you two have a right-
I managed to conceal my slurring a bit and ask them where they were taking us. “You haven’t heard? Horrible earthquake out in Yellowstone, California, whole world’s been shook up. You’re lucky we’re out east of that. All civilians are being taken to our facility just 15 miles northeast, it’s the only place we can be sure the water will be safe. Now…”
In the last 20 minutes, I’d been more scared than I’d ever been in my life. Martial law would’ve made me shit my pants, and either kill myself, succumb to despair and come with them, or try to fight off a bunch of Remington-weilding SWAT jocks, if I’d chosen to stay home. Even now, in the starless night sky with 2 friends dying in the span of minutes… I looked at Marcus.
“C’mon, Luke. W-we gotta go. They’ll take care ‘f us.”
“Y’all keep quiet.”

I would have argued, maybe, in a different situation. I nodded. Stood still while the tall one droned on for a few more seconds, and then bade the 2 of us into the back of his car. I looked up at the sky. Couldn’t see anything beyond the smoke.
___
And that's it for this time. Hope you all liked it.

>>33407195
>>33407215
I'm glad everything's alright then, thanks for the quick reply

don't worry. more of ambassador and blue alien waifu tonight. just not yet.

So, I just read this one: http://pastebin.com/1EcjNv0e
And I want a mod that makes your guns have a Waffegeist form and follow you around.

File: IMG_7898.jpg (207KB, 900x816px) Image search: [Google]

207KB, 900x816px

Here it is boys, a fucking update.

Nadine would concentrate, her recently enhanced cyber-brain quickly allowing thought to process within hundredths of a second and a decision to be made. A knife would be pulled from its scabbard mounted to her salvaged rig, the tungsten-carbite blade quickly being thrust into the concrete, a circle cut out from the thick stone and Annushka pulling the disk out to set aside with relative ease.
Both androids plunged into darkness, eyes adjusting the artificial night of the reactor’s sarcophagus and feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. The silence was deafening, unnerving as they had expected to be thrust into a situation that would surely involve a firefight immediately.

Their linked minds were communicating with each other, facial expressions being exchanged as thoughts swapped between each woman.
Annushka: [You think we should continue?]
Nadine: [We don't have a choice. Just stick together.]
Annushka: [Okay. I’m picking up radiation coming from… Oh… Fuck. Right.]
She had forgotten where they were. Their location was perfect to fight even the most advanced androids. Their full spectrum was rendered useless due to the conditions they were exposed to. Reflexes slowed as their systems compensated for the influx of electromagnetism.
Annushka: [This place sucks.]
Nadine: [Agreed.]
Luckily their AKs were armed with lights, white orbs being cast onto the burned walls as they worked their way to the stairs. There was only one way to go: Down.

File: 2013-03-18 12.29.20.jpg (25KB, 490x397px) Image search: [Google]

25KB, 490x397px

>>33407215
You're on pain meds, so it's understandable that you aren't firing on all cylinders. Today, I was prescribed some benzodiazepines for my back, which somehow fucked itself up, and I've been wandering around in a fog since this morning. Actually, since my last post.

ALSO. My phone fucking bricked itself,, so now I have to start from scratch on my last update, and since I'm basically high as a kite for the foreseeable future, I don't know how this is gonna work.

Polybro, you're good, dude. Pic totally related.

>>33407402
FUUUUUCK Not uploading tonight, gotta help my friend design himself a nuclear reactor to charge his cellphone in five minutes (light it on fire in three minutes)

>>33405673
>Obeying traffic laws is one thing, but withholding the nightcap? Has Hilja gone too far?
maybe she's just teasing Anon?

>"So I have to ask, Jack what do you feel like, to see the universe like this, the things lost for those gained in the pursuit of things like peace between your people and mine? My people would never give up our old rural way of life more than necessary, but yours?"
"Two hundred and four years ago, the first man landed on the moon. I managed to pick up this media player while we were in the white house, so... I'd like you to listen to something. is there music on acrassas?"
>"Yes."
"Maybe it'll relate to you then. You see, music is a reflection of the time that spawns it in my culture. When we first made all these achievements, in the middle of that competition, people people had a view of this. but... as we spent more time and money on the ground, not really going beyone low orbit for decades... the view stagnated, degenerated. Leftists of the early twenty first century denied that it even happened at all. Look. I. I know it must seem such a small step to get to the moon these days, only two hundred twenty thousand miles away as it is. But... THEN! Then, the people who achieved that were the heroes of the world. so... I just want you to understand the gravity of this when you hear it. This was all of humanity's hopes and dreams, for a better tomorrow, for a future without the strife that's always plagued us. We used to live on farms, work hard labor just to live, sure life's gotten much easier, we gained a lot, we also lost a lot of bad... but I can't help feeling something was lost in this great transition that shouldn't have been given up without consideration. This song, Pitra, was my great great great great great granfather, it was all of us when that man was my age."
>Jack raised the volume on the media player and pressed play, handing it to Pitra before beginning to sing along to the old familiar song of his childhood.
https://youtu.be/80VU36nKUZc

>>33409988
>by the time the song had ended, Pitra had shed a tear, and wiped her eye before speaking.
>"That was beautiful."
"My mother used to sing that song to me before bed when I was a kid. I never thought about it until I was older. I researched how people lived in those times and it took on a whole new meaning as I learned more. There was a movie about it back when called the right stuff. The effort I had to go to just to watch it was extraordinary, and I just couldn't believe how different it was. The setting, the way of life, how people lived in those days was... well, alien compared with my own life. Closer to your own life on accrassas, but even THAT was closer to fifty years after that movie's lifestyle."
>"I see, you feel loss over what's changed and been replaced with something that might be better for everyone else, but not for you. You hold that belief that you aren't wrong even if others are right passionately, and disapprove of all this change that's had to happen because even the paradise of peace an familiarity must recede to the necessary changes of the perdition chosen by all others for you, even so indominable as to preclude you from even living at the same time as them to so much as raise your voice about it."
>Jack thought about what she said for a second before she continued. "You know, Jack. I think I've learned more about you just in the last couple minutes than even in all our time together before them. You're sweet, you're pasionate about what you believe... But you know ehat strikes me about you the most?" Pitra asked, desperately trying to keep a straight face
"That I'm a sentimental fool?" Jack offered.
>"Haha, you're so EASY to wind up get going!" Pitra said, now unable to stifle her laughter, which reached a cackle as Jack matched her, realizing how comically correct she was.

>>33410127
"Good god, you're right." Jack said, managing to stifle his laugh.
>"If I wasn't basically the representative of species right now, I'd be bullying you for being so easy to bait."
"How many of you did it take to move me from the drop can? And what did you use to assist?"
>"Nothing, I just picked you up and carried you to the ship."
"HOW?! In a suit I'm like sixteen hundred pounds!"
>"Now, before you question if I COULD bully you, ask yourself this. Can you move the suit without the suit?"
"Hell no... well, actually, it IS possible for the average human. It's just not strictly at will. And it would physically harm the human from exertion."
>"Ooh, an anatomy lesson! Do tell." Pitra urged
"Well, Humans have muscles they use for everything involving movement. They can only voluntarily engage one third of the fibers at a time save for when the brain perceives an extreme crisis that could be averted by the use of all of them at once."
>"So... what would allow people to do this?"
"Well, an example over a hundred years old, a man was scaling a steep rockface over a thousand feet from the ground, he comes to a small lerch and starts climbing from it, as he begins the climb, a fifteen hundred pound boulder dislodged from the rock face, his arms supporting it are the only thing keeping it from crushing it, but because of its weight, it's dragging him to the edge of the perch. Well, his brain sees the crisis and he uses all the muscle fibers between his arms and shoulders. He throws the boulder off the cliff face, but when he manages to climb down and get to an emergency room, he's covered in his own blood, skin on his arms and shoulders torn or stretched out, and then his muscles are torn up because a lot of the outer fibers got extended too far to stay in one piece."
>"Lived to be like 90, right?"
"Ha! No. Died four months later when camping in a cave on el capitan. Lightning strike dropped him off the cliff."
>"...Wow."
"Camp on a cliff, what do you expect?"

File: madsen_brazil2.jpg (10KB, 400x273px) Image search: [Google]

10KB, 400x273px

>>33399997
Brazil is probably second world except the favelas.The Madsens have been rechambered from 7x57mm spanish mauser to NATO 7.6mm.

I mean, they must be taking good care if they're still firing right?

>>33408522
Time for operate innanukeplant! Can't wait for more

File: 1471672000681.jpg (39KB, 792x520px) Image search: [Google]

39KB, 792x520px

>>33407235
It's interesting. It really isn't their night, is it? It's got a pretty good hook. Seems slightly suspicious that SWAT is responding so quickly after an earthquake, if that's what it really is.

>>33408522
Chernobyl 4: Radioactive Evermore. Though I don't think the reactor is giving off anything that'll cause any electric issues. Annushka and Nadine, however, will be walking hot spots if they can survive the radiation and they aren't wearing anti-c suits.

>>33409716
I should hope so.

>>33410403
He's nostalgic for a time that he never was a part of. I can relate to that: wish I had grown up in the past sometimes. Oh well. At least Jack's got a banging alien gal

I'm back for another part. It's a short one because I'd like to have a big advance in scenario soon. It's o la been small little places until low bit I'll like to take one or two long strides.

So, dumping

>>33411157
Once the waffles were gulped down, you returned to the buzzling crowd, the rich smells of sweets and the muffled shouts of the shopkeepers selling their goods to tourists and regulars alike. The air was cold but you both had enough layers to ignore it, were it not for the wind blowing between the buildings. with you hair cut short, it wasn't a concern for you as it was for Jane. The way the buildings were laid, the wind could swirl around as it liked and you never could tell where it would come from next time. Even with her quite short cut for a girl, she had trouble keeping a straight face when half of it was buried or when the wind blowed from straight ahead. You didn't enjoy the last part either, but it made for some fun moments.

Battling the elements is something you did quite often on a small scale. Going running in a windy and rainy day, hiking under the heat of a summer day, it gave you a way to guess how bad the day would be and you guessed it wouldn't be a bad one for long. For once, you were as wrong as you could have been. The wind did let up but rain started to pour down on the city. The crowd thinned at an alarming rate, everyone trying to find some shelter. Jane didn't run but she didn't stay outside either. Funny how a small increase in temperature could change the way the day looks, you thought. Rain like that would have bogged down an offensive during WWI and it sure bogged down the market. You could almost imagine it now, soldiers running across the No-Man's-Land, their feet splashing in the mud trying to get to their trenches or on the other side of the barbed wire only to stop bullets with their body and crumble to the ground. Some even drowned in the mud because they couldn't move their nose and mouth free.

>>33411164
You shook your head, tryin to get the forming images out of your head. No use thinking about it on a day like this. You simply waited in silence for the rain to stop. Jane was trying to keep her hair completely dry. You didn't tell her that it would be useless given how wet the air was anyway. You took the opportunity of a small change in the weather to run to your car with her on your heels. You couldn't help but laugh once you sat behind the wheel. What would people think of you two, running like madmen to escape the rain ?

The trip home was uneventful, rain made the road more difficult than you thought it would and you had to concentrate to stay on it too. Mud was overflowing from the fields on either side of it and you didn't really like the slippery feel it gave the asphalt. You were forced to drive slowly when what you wanted was to get home, grab a mug and feel it with hot chocolate before diving beneath the sheets and waiting for Mother Nature to stop throwing a fit. By the time you reached your village, your car was more mud than metal. You wished you wouldn't splash in mud to get to your front door. Fat chance, you thought.

>>33411169
After throwing everything to the washing machine and jumping in more comfortable clothes, you made chocolate for both of you. Dark chocolate, milk, a bit of sugar, a classic. Slower and harder to make than throwing powder in a bowl full of milk and putting it in a microwave for a minute or two but also infinitely better tasting. Andnted to have a nice thing after the driving you just did. The couch was an old one but it was plenty enough for now. With the beginning of the film rolling on screen, you were sipping your chocolate, Jane holding hers with both hands and staring at it like it was some sort of strange druidic potion.

" What's the matter ? You never had hot chocolate like that ? Or you're afraid of the mug ?
- I'll have you know I'm not afraid of much things !
- Except mugs ?
- Go the hell. You know what, you're not nice and I don't like when you're happy !
- T-t-t. You sure looked like you were on the bench. Now stop and drink it dammit, it's no good if you let it coold down.
- But it smells strange !
- Strange ? Are you kidding me ? It's the best smell in the world ! It makes you remember your childhood when you were with your parents during winter. And calcium is good for your bones.
- Oh."

>>33411172
You don't know if it's the calcium part of the childhood one, but she took a sip from the mug, slowly, as if she was ready to stop at any moment and spit the drink because it's poisoned. A sip after the other, she drank the whole mug. She did not spit once. Truth was, after the first sip, she drank it all in one go. You were glad to see her opening up to things like that. It didn't seem like much at first glance but you knew what did lay behind it. She's a gun after all. No gun ever tasted hot homemade chocolate in the factory. And her childhood wouldn't be full of memories of her parents telling her fairytales in front of a fireplace. If she had a childhood.

_______________

And that's it for now. As usual, Pastebin has been update and I did a bit of proofreading to squash some mistakes I made. Feedback is appreciated, especially on what you imagine for the following bits and if the pace is increasing too much.

>>33399884
I don't know, I have no words for this.

>>33400000
I came here to read stories and check digits.

Also, instead of writing stories and/or doing my finals requirement, I ended up watching White Tiger. Fuck me, right?

>inb4 blogposting

How do you include compelling character drama in a fairly serious story?

I'd like to do something with Strangereal Dreadnoughts, because I find the intricacies of WW1 naval combat fascinating, but I'm not sure how to come up with characters that don't become one-note technothriller cliches

>>33412141
I think you have to have an idea about gongs before you start. Create the people in your head and then figure out what kind of conflicts they could end up in I guess. That an answer good enough?

ATannie is up to date

http://pastebin.com/sdYq5Qfm

Time for more Enemy Contact.

Bastepin: http://pastebin.com/8CCk306U

>>

It was the largest single room Kiral had seen in her life, and even after living in the Capitol for years it still amazed her. Once it had simply been more levels of colony living quarters, leisure areas and markets, but at some point in the last century it had all been demolished to create this monument to the power of the state. Open space was at a premium in Sha'dee cities, and a more powerful demonstration of status than any of the ornate statues or banners that filled the Mall. It was also large enough to house impressive crowds, as evidenced by the thong of people in front of Kiral.

She pressed through the edge of the crowd towards one of the guard posts along the walls, most people moving out of her way once they recognized her uniform. As she was about half way to her destination, a gaggle of little ones caught sight of her and stared wide-eyed at her uniform and blades. One of their fathers was attending to them, and tried to shoo them back into line but Kiral raised her hand to stop the man.

She paused, crouching down on her haunches.

"Hello little ones! Are you excited for the big event?" Kiral chirped, smiling warmly.

They crept closer, looking up at Kiral. She reached out and patted their heads, eliciting a shy grin from the father.

"Yes Captain! We're very excited to see Madame Kheersi become Empress!" One of the little females chirped back, making her best attempt at the two-fingered Serev salute.

"Awww, aren't you adorable. And you knew my rank too!" Kiral purred.

"Theeri does nothing but play soldier all day!" One of the others giggled, causing Theeri to turn and pout at him indignantly.

"Well, I'm sure the Empress will be very proud to have such a dedicated warrior. When you're old enough, that is." Kiral guided the small Sha'dee's head away from her brother and scratched her behind the ear.

>>33412962
The little one blushed and coiled her tail in embarrassment.

"M-Madame Captain? May I touch your sword?" She asked, tentatively.

"That's enough Theeri! I'm sure the Captain has very important business she needs to attend to." The father scolded.

"No, no, it's fine!" Kiral reached back and unhooked the sheath from her belt, holding it out for the little one.

The girl took the blade, almost dropping it as the weight caught her by surprise. She stared at it in wonder, wrapping her hand around the well-worn leather grip. As she started to draw it, Kiral reached down and gently pushed the blade back in with a pair of fingers on the pommel.

"Uh-uh-uh. Not yet." Kirl took the sword back and straightened up. "Have fun little ones! May the gods smile on you and yours."

"And on you and yours!" The little ones and their father echoed.

Kiral waved goodbye, and hurried through the crowd towards the post. The male guards saluted her as she passed, straightening up and planting their rifle butts on the floor, long bayonets gleaming in the light of the great gas lamps above.

Once inside the guard corridors, Kiral was able to quickly traverse the length of the Mall without having to push through crowds. These passageways ran throughout the entire city, allowing the guards to quickly and easily navigate the mammoth building. They also provided direct access to the interior of the Imperial Seat, once she waved past the guards with her unit insignia.

Kiral had never been in the Palace before, but dawdling to play with the little ones had left her no time to gawk like a yokel. She hurried past paintings, engravings of ancient battles, and old weapons hanging from the walls. As she opened the last door, she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

"You're late, Corporal Kiral!"

Their hands met in midair, clenching tight in a brief, but friendly struggle before Kiral relented, and let the Empress force her hand to the side.

File: Megacity 1.jpg (81KB, 1000x517px) Image search: [Google]

81KB, 1000x517px

New story I repeat new story incoming.
Dark Dealings part 1
http://pastebin.com/SpFgJjZe

>>33412970
"It's Captain Kiral now, Madame." Kiral grinned.

"You let me win, *Captain*." Kheersi grinned back.

"Of course, my Empress. It would be disrespectful to do otherwise." Kiral's tone was jovial, but her words were earnest; Serev people (especially females) took hierarchy and respect very seriously.

"It's disgusting how soft driving a desk all these years has made me." Kheersi snorted, gesturing to the ornate, silver-bedecked uniform she wore; tailored to accentuate her best attributes but unable to conceal a bit of tightness around the stomach. "Now I suppose I'll never get to see the field again."

"We all must sacrifice for the people in different ways. It is our duty as their servants." Kiral smirked.

"Don't quote past Emperors at me, Kiral. And don't call me Madame either. That's an order!" Kheersi scowled playfully, slapping Kiral on the back and dragging her down the hall towards the rest of the Guard.

It was nice to finally see so many familiar faces again. Kiral had come of age beside these men and women, fought and suffered and triumphed with them. They had all left their mark on her, and she on them. It was a bond that no amount of time or promotions could break. They greeted her warmly, embracing and touching noses as they joked and teased eachother over old memories.

Soon, such things had to be set aside as it was almost time for the ceremony to start. Kiral and her old comrades formed up, flanking the Empress as assistants stepped in to make sure the older female's uniform and makeup were perfect before her grand entrance. Behind Kiral, her lower ranked cohorts were being handed drill rifles and fixing bayonets. Administrators and aides swarmed and fretted over every detail while Kiral mentally prepared herself to be in the center of more attention than she had ever anticipated. The eyes of the Empire would be on all of them in a few seconds. Kiral couldn't imagine how Kheersi must be feeling right now.

>>33411057
very glad you liked it, thank you

>>33411183
that was really cute :3

>>33412978
When the great doors finally parted to a chorus of horns and singing, Kiral drew her sword and held it out at attention as their formation stepped out into the limelight.

The next half hour was a blur, as Kiral stood stock-still before the massive, cheering crowds and brilliant lights while Kheersi gave her speech. Normally the previous ruler would be the one to pass the torch, but as the previous ruler was currently in prison, it was left to the most senior of the Grand Electors.

Accompanied by rising music, he slowly mounted the stage and offered the sword of the last reigning Empress to the kneeling Kheersi, careful not to touch the blade or hilt. Serev tradition had different styles of sword for males and females, representing the two aspects of combat; Defense (embodied by the male) and Attack (embodied by the female). For one to touch the other's blade was a grave violation of tradition.

Kheersi stood up, grasping the ancient sword and drawing it from its sheath as the crowds cheered. She raised the blade high above her head, mirrored by a forest of bayonets from the columns of soldiers below. Kiral couldn't help but break her professional poker-face with a small smile.

The entire mesa shook as the enormous cannons of the Capitol's city-killer battery fired off a celebratory volley, and the roar of the crowd almost drowned out the thunder of the artillery.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Kiral noticed a male in a civil servant's uniform approach Kheersi and whisper something in the Empress's ear. Kheersi's face, glowing with pride a second before, turned to a look of concern as she replied. Kiral blinked in puzzlement as the tone of Kheersi's speech changed, going from a glowing endorsement of the values and future of the Empire to wrap-up, long before the ceremony was supposed to end. Before Kiral could figure out what was going on, they were herded offstage and back into the bowels of the palatial complex.

>>33413648
"What's going on, I thought it wasn't supposed to end for a while yet?" Kiral managed to ask Kheersi as they were led down a passageway.

Before Kheersi could answer, one of the civil servants interrupted.

"Madame Empress, the ceremony is over, shall we not dismiss your Guard before discussing such sensitive matters?"

Kheersi gave him a withering stare of disapproval that caused the timid male to shrink from her gaze.

"Every one of these people has saved my life on numerous occasions. I trust them implicitly." Her tone was icy.

Kiral grinned. Kheersi had always hated paper-pushers. Ironic, given that she'd been the one to make General and disappear into the bottomless pit of military administration.

"I'm not sure yet, Kiral. We're about to be briefed." Kheersi explained as they reached a door held open for them by a civil servant.

They entered a small, darkened auditorium, like a classroom at an education center. Dust filtered through the air, illuminated by the bulb of a projector. Everyone waited until Kheersi had taken her seat at the center-rear of the room before sitting down themselves. There were others already in the room, civil servants and officials from the Imperial Science and Defense Councils.

"Madame Empress, ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the screen." One of the Councilmen said, clearing his throat and picking up a pointing stick as the projector hummed and clicked. "These pictures were taken using telescopes at one of our astronomical facilities in City 79, at the Kelko Institute for Extra-Planetary Science, last night."

"What am I looking at, Councilman?" Kheersi asked, leaning forward to stare at the screen.

"Well, we're not exactly sure. The researchers at the institute assumed they were meteors at first. But if you look here..." The projector clicked, displaying a new image. "We observed several of these unknown flying objects change trajectory in a manner that has never been observed in meteors."

>>33412574
I was thinking of centering it around a pseudo-Pacific war between a Polynesian power (basically a significantly more developed New Guinea and Solomon Islands) and an Indian Empire that's more or less a sick man of the region.

Maybe it could be a sort of coming of age story about how two island boys end up becoming great admirals of their day. Which could be a lot of fun, if only terms of growing up at the tail end of sailing ships and seeing them turn into Churchill's "castles of steel"

>>33413859
The images were clearly black-and-white photos of the night sky, but featuring clusters of bright lights. When the slide changed, they altered position.

"So what's the explanation then?"

"There are two possibilities. Either the equipment malfunctioned, or..." The Councilman hesitated.

"What, moon-men?" Kheersi asked, jokingly.

"Well, for lack of a better word, yes." The Councilman looked extremely uncomfortable. "We currently have a team tearing apart the telescopes at Kelko, to eliminate the possibility of equipment error. But we felt it best to inform you immediately, just in case. It may be coincidental, but we've had multiple reports of missing hunting parties who were believed to be in the area where the objects were projected to land."

Kheersi nodded pensively.

"What response does the Defense Council recommend?" She asked, turning to them.

"There is a projected landing site relatively close to City 18, where we have several experimental scout aircraft based. The Defense Council respectfully recommends that your Imperial Highness dispatch one of these craft to examine the site from above and take photographs."

"Very well, make it so. I want reports as soon as we have the information." Kheersi ordered.

"There's something else, as well." The Councilman from the Science Council spoke up. "Multiple observatories have reported incidents of known stars inexplicably vanishing from the sky, which cannot be accounted for by the presence of any known celestial body over the past several months. It could simply be observer error, but it has also been theorized that some type of "artificial satellite" could be causing the phenomenon."

"Like a space vessel?" Kheersi asked, cocking one ear (the Sha'dee equivalent of a raised eyebrow).

"Well, we're reluctant to jump to that rather... improbable conclusion. But it can't be discounted." The Councilman admitted.

>>33414094
Moonman is a comin'!

>>33414824
Moonman, Moonman can't you see
xenos and commies need to hang from trees

>>33414094
"Understood. I want our military readiness level increased to Code Yellow. All city-killer batteries and tank divisions should be loaded, fueled and ready for action until stood down. No point taking chances." Kheersi ordered.

"Yes Madame."

"Is there anything else?" Kheersi asked, leaning back in her seat.

"No Madame. However we recommend you stand by in the situation room here. You have interphone lines and a radio at your disposal, and of course we will inform you immediately of any fresh developments."

"Very well. You're all dismissed." Kheersi pronounced, reaching into her uniform jacket and putting her feet up on the desk in front of her.

As the others filtered out Kiral paused, watching her friend unwrap her sahjat pouch and begin packing her pipe.

"Not you, Kiral." The older female mumbled around the pipestem between her teeth, conjuring a flame from the table lighter. "Come over here. Sit."

Kiral found a seat next to the Empress and sat down, pulling out her own pipe.

"What a way to start a reign, am I right? Not even all the way through the ceremony and already I have to deal with an invasion of fucking moon-men of all things. I'd say I didn't sign up for this, but I did just that." Kheersi exhaled slowly, letting the pleasant-smelling smoke trickle into the air.

"We don't *know* it's moon-men. Probably just some telescope-head who read one too many comics and had a bit much to drink." Kiral chuckled, reaching for the table lighter.

"You're probably right. It's just a lot to handle, you know? You spend your entire life preparing to be a leader, and then the highest office in the land just falls into your lap." Kheersi mused, passing the lighter to Kiral. "I'm not complaining, just... it's going to take some time to adjust. Every living soul in the Empire depends on me to make the right decision. That's heavy."

>>33401324
Thanks for the update Tsuhna it was greatly needed.

>>33415918
"Well, that's why they picked you. They thought you could handle the pressure. For what it's worth, I agree with them." Kiral reassured her, putting up her own feet and taking a long drag on her pipe, staring pensively at the flickering projector screen.

"I appreciate that." Kheersi blew a smoke ring. "Of all the 2nd-in-commands I've ever had, I always trusted you the most. I won't ask you to give up the field if you don't want to... But I would very much appreciate if you stayed on as an official part of my staff. I can upgrade your colony's living quarters, give them more expansion rights, a better education center assignment for the little ones..."

"Please." Kiral laughed. "I'd follow you to the end of this planet and back, you don't need to buy me with colony privileges and you know it... Though there is one thing I'd like to ask you."

"Let's hear it."

"Once all this is done, and we're settled in here, I'd like a few months of extra leave." Kiral asked.

"Ahahahah! You're not planning to have more little ones already are you?" Kheersi laughed.

"I have a new mate." Kiral blushed slightly. "I like him a lot."

"Well, if the moon-men do invade, I suppose we'll need all the reinforcements we can get." Kheersi joked. "Now, where the hell is the booze in this place? I need a stiff one after all this bullshit."

***

File: Pregnant with Sako.jpg (25KB, 350x353px) Image search: [Google]

25KB, 350x353px

slow day today

>>33417567
Its a friday nigth m8, if i werent on painkillers i would be out

File: nataliapleasenoticeme.jpg (30KB, 489x379px) Image search: [Google]

30KB, 489x379px

>>33417567
it's ok. I'm here. I'm always here if I can be... I have no life.

File: 10399011_562432887267013_1447562105693635292_n_2.jpg (14KB, 297x331px) Image search: [Google]

14KB, 297x331px

>>33416071
This is getting good, I love a good origin/history story.

>>33417567
Tfw working on a Friday night

>>33418880
I'm cold and lonely and your stories always make me realize how starved of meaningful physical attention I am because of all of the cuddles that are in your stories. I just want someone to hold famala

File: waning_hope.jpg (33KB, 480x480px) Image search: [Google]

33KB, 480x480px

>>33419238
I feel the same way. That's why I write them. Even as I chuckled reading your post it hurt inside.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zotaRLROtw

Hello again, time for another chapter in this totally normal story

>”Uhhh….Who’s Dave?” she says
“What do you mean who’s Dave?” you reply, confusion filling your face
>”You were talking to someone in the store but I never heard them, is Dave the owner of the store?” She continues
“Of course Dave is the owner, who else would be?” you reply
>She stands there for a moment with a look of someone trying to remember something
>”I guess you’re right, I’ve just never seen him before that’s all” Jamie says
“Okay, I understand” you say before sitting down on the couch
>You pick up a book from the night stand and flip to the book mark
>Jamie wanders around the house for a bit more before returning to the living room and flops down on the couch with you
>You both sit there, you flipping a page every so often, and Jamie napping
>After a few hours you hear your stomach rumble
“Well, looks like it’s time for dinner” you say as you put the book away and get up
>You enter the kitchen and open a cabinet
>To your surprise the stocks of boxes and cans that you thought were in there is just two cans of chili and a can of corn
>you remove the two cans of chili and shrug your shoulders
>You hear Jamie stir from the living room
>”nnng...What time is it?” She asks
“Late Afternoon, I’m starting dinner. I need to get groceries tomorrow, I hope you can make due with canned chili and pilot bread for now” you reply as you open the cans
>”Pilot bread?” Jamie asks
“It’s basically a massive cracker. I love the taste of them and eat them with almost every meal” you reply
>”Oh, okay then. That’ll do for today” Jamie replies
>after a few minutes heating the contents of the cans on the stove dinner is served
>You place a bowl of chili along with 3 pieces of pilot bread in front of two places on your table and the two of you begin eating
>”So...What do you do normally?” Jamie asks you between bites of pilot bread

>>33419580
forgot to note that this chapter is short

“Well, I work downtown in an accounting business, and I go camping every so often” you reply after swallowing a spoonful of chili
>She nods before continuing to eat
>”Oh, thank you for the food anon. It’s been years since I last had food” Jamie says
“Did they not serve you food at the gun store, like snacks and such?” you reply
>”Well for a while they did then you know, one day they stopped giving food” she says
“Huh, alright then. I’m glad you’re enjoying it” you say, smile on your face
>she smiles back then returns to her bowl of chili
>after dinner you head to your room and boot up your computer
>You click on the google chrome tab and after a second the browser opens up and loads
“Huh, seems the net is up today. That’s always great” you say to yourself as you type in the address to 4chan
>After the few seconds to take to load the page you begin browsing
“Hmm, Happening General...My water filtration system just broke, what do...reloading general...Hah, these guys must think their funny with the whole ‘it’s habbening’ meme. Everything’s fine in the world” you say to yourself again
>After a short time browsing you switch off the computer and head back to the living room to see what Jamie is up to
>As you exit the room you see Jamie trying to open the door to one of the rooms
>When she sees you she jumps back from the door in shock
>”Oh uh, Hi there. I was just uhh….wondering what was in this room” she says, her face flushed with embarrassment
“There’s nothing in there, nothing special” you say flatly
>”Well if there’s nothing special then why is it locked Anon?” Jamie says
“I just never use it. Please don’t go in there” you say
>"Are you sure you're not hiding anything in there?" Jamie asks, a hint of sly teasing in her voice
"No I am not" you say firmly "and do not enter that room Jamie"
>”o-okay then Anon” Jamie replies

>>33419585
"Hey, I'm sorry if I sounded angry. I just don't want you to get hurt alright" you say, bringing Jamie into a hug
>you feel her nodding her head yes into your shoulder
> After about half an hour the two of you go to bed
>After an extremely short amount of time the two of you end up in the big spoon little spoon position
>”So what’s the plan for tomorrow Anon?” Jamie asks
“Grocery shopping of course, after that not much” you reply
>”Well, goodnight Anon” Jamie says
>Goodnight Jamie” you reply
>”I hope that you’ll wake up soon” you swear you hear her mumble as you drift off to sleep

and that's all for now, sorry for the short chapter

Does anyone have the screen cap of the story about the /k/ommando that stole a solider by taking him sleeping bag and all?

>>33419617
>a /k/ommando

No, it was THE /k/ommando

>>33419226
Working Friday night?

I start work at 0400 on the weekends.

>>33419580
>make due
I could have sworn it was "make do"?

>>33419617
>>33419874
His name is /k/oko, and I've seen him post in these threads before.

IIRC, he showed up with a trip not long after that post.

>>33410403
>"When you put it that way..."
"Yep. Is there anywhere you want to visit before we head to the hotel?"
>"I kind of wanted to visit this landmark I heard about before I went to prison, MT.Everest?"
"we're on the other side of the planet from that. And the air on the peak is incredibly thin, we'd have to dress REALLY warm and look, that's a lot more risk than I'm willing to take with you for your first time on earth and probably more than I'll ever be comfortable taking."
>"I've heard it's so beautiful, though, how bad could it be?"
"Well, the place is a literal graveyard and landfill because human biology until the nano suits came along prevented any other option but literally throwing your trash on the ground and leaving it, including corpses, who would quickly assume ambient temperature of negative two hundred or something, and about a quarter of the two thousand or so corpses that have been created are so well preserved and until recently impossible to recover with any reasonable degree of safety that even George Mallory of the British army is still up there looking like a human puddle minus the liquids."
>"Who?"
"Guy who's been dead two hundred forty-nine years."
>"So what? You're afraid of seeing dead bodies?"
"No, though the bodies on that mountain are unsettling if you search out images. I'm more afraid of joining them. Shit that's hard to explain but alarmingly simple happens up there. We mitigate the risks so ONLY two thousand have died up there. We don't know how your body would react, so we don't know how we could shield it."
>"Oh. That's... really morbid. I kinda wanted to see greenboot's cave, but with all thoses gruesome things... Now I don't think I want to."
>Jack thought about what she'd just said, realizing what greenboot's cave was.
"Oh, Pitra. If only you knew the irony of what you just said."
>"What?"
"Green boots is the nickname of a mountain corpse."
>"Is it even a cave?"
"More like a tiny nook under a rock... with a dead guy in it."

>>33420096
Your MC sure knows a shitload of random information.

I could have figured out who greenboots was based on context, but the size of his cave?

>>33420096
>>33420147
My characters ARE all defined by my own degree of autism. The cave is also photographed with the corpse and is the first thing to come up if you image search "Green boots"

>"That's... bad. Why do people go there?"
"Thrill seekers. Same reason people still ride motorcycles, street race, drive cars at all, do skydiving, or whatever other thing. Surely people do excessively dangerous things because their fun or give them a 'rush' on your planet too."
>"Yes, we have motorbikes and street races. I'm... actually really interested now, what other morbid stuff is there on that mountain?"
"There's an area they got to cleaning out a couple years ago called 'Rainbow Valley' in reference to the four hundred corpses adorned in brightly colored mountaineering apparel, there was a woman called sleeping beauty after she froze to death. Better things to die over."
>"What was HER thing?"
"Fuck if I know, it was one of my brief on-world assignments in the suit, so quite a few nights were spent searching the net from the sides of the mountain, waiting to be able to move again without the suit sliding ever so slightly. Naturally why all these fucking corpses look like they died yesterday and dressed in old fashioned down cloth with hobnail boots was a quick one. But, hey. I suppose it prepared us for Kilundu, where the terrain was literally mountain non-stop mountains with a nitrogen atmosphere."
>"I went to Heptora for a month when we had our run ins with the Lirt species. They were six legged crab people who hurled their eggs into space and from there the eggs would repeat. Well, a cluster lands on a planet near the Acra imperium and we take pre-emptive action. By the time we'd gotten there, they were in tunnels, operating from the planetside was impossible. So for a month I was deployed, went on my patrols, went back to the ship immediately. They were quick to be wiped out... but when they attacked... They didn't attack from the rocks. They WERE the rocks."

>>33420207
>"'Y'lep slyiusd yiliuck, anfhrgr' they said. 'Sk'tlyipe fsjuick jikimin' ah' They said to us. It was a load of shit as you'd say, but I can't deny it got the blood pumping."
"What happened? I've droned on about random shit in detail for a while, lets hear some of your stories."
>"We came to this valley, like any valley on any nondescript world, wearing our translucent atmosphere suits. I looked great in mine, as always. Then we hear this thunder, mind you the planet has an atmosphere of literally nothing but hydrogen. Good thing we brought our trusty plasma projectors. So we begin scanning all around us, and suddenly, BOOM. THE GROUND BENEATH US DROPS."
"So they used a seismic isolation to trap you? How far did it drop?"
>"About as far as you are tall and a half."
"So nine, ten feet?"
>"If you're six, then that'd be right. Anyway, we find ourselves surrounded by Lirt, and Tepri, our team leader shouts out 'So much simpler now, SHOOT EVERYWHERE!' So we begin shooting in every direction as they approach, eventually stacking their dead so high we had to advance to the point of stabbing them with charging hilts before we could fire on them some more."
"Sounds about right for bugs."
>"'Sounds about right for bugs?' What does THAT mean?"
"Well, that's how they've been imagined by many if they were to be formidable enemies to be fought on a battlefield with actual weapons as opposed to chemical agents."
">"Well, anyway, we killed thousands of those bugs and you think I'm a hero and I accept the responsibility."
"Why does that sound... nevermind. Wanna go get a bottle of scotch and get drunk at the hotel?"
>"As fun as that seems, why bother? If it's anything like the scotch we were enjoying in the company of that 'president Jackson' fellow, it'll just taste like spit."
"like spit, eh?"
>Jack fell into thought as Pitra delivered her affirmative answer on the last utterance.
"Were we drinking before we last slept?" Jack asked.
>"No- Oh. Maybe we WILL get drunk."

File: image.jpg (530KB, 1014x996px) Image search: [Google]

530KB, 1014x996px

>>33420356
>"I still remember it. The most disturbing thing I ever saw from the Lirt was when their losses mounted so high that the hive mind collapsed. All those catacombs, and you never knew until they were in striking distance whether or no they were dead. A few good soldiers died before we confirmed that we'd killed the queen. So... why do you drink scotch on this planet?"
"To help forget things like what you just described. That disturbing last part, I mean. or at least to help come to terms with it. The alcohol in it impairs brain function."
>"Is the goal to be intoxicated?"
"Pretty much. or... inebriated."
>"Oooooh... Which way to the hotel?"
"That way, shall we?"
>"Yes! I think I know why the scotch tastes like spit. Come on!"
>With that, Pitra eagerly followed Jack to the hotel like a puppy, clutching onto his arm as though he'd get there faster. The couple checked in and for that day, they would pray they wouldn't be inconvenienced by such things as neighbors.

End of chapter.

Shiieeet, I wish I could bump with more content but it's slow going at the moment. I know all the major points and scenes I want to hit, it's the in-between bits that are the worst.

But I don't want to rush it because I'm trying to make this story more of a slow burn. Like a '50s scifi B movie, but from the perspective of aliens dealing with a mysterious human invasion.

>>33422547
What if we petition for hot she-devil fuggin?

>>33422547
>50's scifi movie but from the eyes of the ayys

holy fuck, hell yes

>>33422635
Hrm... I haven't flexed my smut-muscles in a while. But neither of my current stories are in a good place for it yet. Might do a one-shot as an exercise tho. What kind of themes do people want?

>>33422693
Get ready for the obligatory "send a plane to check it out but it gets predictably shot down" scene coming up next.

>>33422769
Obviously, I like yuri and Slav-shit. A female gunsmith, perhaps?
(I know that they're not exactly common, but there has to be at least a few out there.)

>>33422802
I don't do the whole geist thing, I'm afraid. Nothing against it, it's just not my style.

>>33422958
I'm not worried or requiring a geist. If the characters are good, then the scene is good.

>>33422802
>There's one lurking RIGHT NOW

>>33423331
What's wrong with you? Everyone knows that there are no girls on the internet.

I'm sorry but times have been a little stormy.

Last night, after some drinking, I sat up and waited a few hours for a friend , but she never got here. So i basically sat up with WoT until... 3AM.

At which point I remembered I was actually there when she moved on

It felt a little too real, so I'll be out for a day or two from writing. Sorry about that

>>33423381
No worries, JT. It will take time.

finally found that bin that was taken down is back
>its NSFW

http://pastebin.com/kEfF9zHK

>>33423381
take your time m8

File: Pig Mask Robber.jpg (319KB, 1781x2048px) Image search: [Google]

319KB, 1781x2048px

>Armed Robber wearing Pig Mask outside of Rolex Store in Las Vegas

Vepr and /k/ris, where have you guys been, hmmm?

>>33422958
All your stories seem like they digress when they get to the good part. Nate in the ship seeing something and it stops there, Leo's story stopped... I guess when they retrieved the tank. It's kinda hard to invest my interest in a story when it's going to get to the point of coming to a head and just stops there. Essentially, you're building us up and edging us for no climax. That's my take anyway.

>>33423665
Places...

>>33423697
>Nate in the ship seeing something and it stops there
There will be a conclusion there, but that story is so full of amateur mistakes, crappy dialogue and an MC who's a bland Gary Stu that I want to go back and re-work the whole thing. A symptom of starting as a one-shot meet-n-fuck that people demanded more of. But that's a project for the summer.

>Leo's story stopped... I guess when they retrieved the tank
Oh his story isn't over. He hasn't completed his face turn yet. I know where he's going and what's happening there. I just needed to take a break from that one, I'll be back to it once I conclude the first chapter of this. I'll probably end up alternating between these two week-by-week, going back to Leo and Co on Monday.

File: brainproblems2.jpg (21KB, 291x302px) Image search: [Google]

21KB, 291x302px

>>33423869
Oh... OK. BTW, this fucking Minus Ten and Counting album is fucking good. I'm incorporating more of these.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EIkifWtFN0

>>33423983
Actually yes, literal brain problems. Unmedicated ADD.

>>33424188
>Unmedicated ADD.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBkSIFMTMoE

You can either write more, or I can pop you in the mouth again.

File: cute.jpg (522KB, 805x1024px) Image search: [Google]

522KB, 805x1024px

>>33424188
same.

>>33424223
Alternating between stories is my way of dealing with it. When I can't focus on one anymore, I work on the other. Well, that and chain-smoking.

>>33419591
>all that foreshadowing

File: doompaul ride.jpg (194KB, 398x499px) Image search: [Google]

194KB, 398x499px

>>33419585
>these guys must think their funny with the whole ‘it’s habbening’ meme. Everything’s fine in the world

>>33424329
Coming from someone who spent plenty of time chainsmoking, please reconsider how long you will do so.

Those fucking things will fucking kill you.

File: Tanya and Viktoriya 8.png (3MB, 1920x1108px) Image search: [Google]

3MB, 1920x1108px

>>33422958
I never said that the love interest had to be a geist, just requesting that the MC be a female gunsmith, and that it be yuri. I really like geist stories, and I WAS implying, but I never outright said that it should be a geist story.

>>33423331
Cool.

File: IMG_1026.jpg (2MB, 3264x2448px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 3264x2448px

kitty is happy.

>>33425147
>no gun
>unalert to threats
>urban camouflage pattern
Does your cat even operate?

File: 1479826485084.png (181KB, 800x644px) Image search: [Google]

181KB, 800x644px

Barret I'm still waiting for an update, we all luv u

File: 1490330122645.png (600KB, 845x1100px) Image search: [Google]

600KB, 845x1100px

Bump for chink bullpups.

>>33423331
>a gunsmith
A /k/laric of the /k/ube is among us!

File: 1471669654604.jpg (1MB, 1800x1120px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 1800x1120px

>>33411183
Are you trying to sneak some feels in there? If so, it's a pretty good job of it. I think your English writing got a lot better as well. Good work, here.

>>33412976
Not the scariest sounding name for a superkiller, I'll admit, but the hook is good, and now I want to learn more.

>>33416071
I hear a moon man coming! I hear trouble on the waves! They don't even know what they're about to fight. Their world will never be the same.

>>33419591
There's nothing happening here. What it isn't is exactly clear. No man with gun over there. Telling me there's nothing to beware.
But seriously. Something is happening. And it's either the happening, or our new Anon is about to become a Doom Marine fighting demons in hell or something. Or maybe it's in between the two.

>>33420822
Them crab people fighting was wicked. Too bad Pitra doesn't like scotch. Maybe wine would be more to her taste. I'm guessing people still do oxygen free runs of Everest? Prove they're just as good as the old timers?

>>33422547
I understand. Don't rush things. Make sure you like it before you put it out.

>>33423381
That's heavy. Take your time, do what you need to do. We'll be here when you'reready to return.

>>33423493
Botesluts being botesluts. I don't think that ever got finished. Either that or we're all too stupid to figure out where the last part is hidden.

I ain't dead.

>Desperate, you claw your way towards the village, but it’s not enough. It’s over. Such is life in the Zone, you suppose. You look towards the dark sky, accepting your fate and hear your death approach, a discharge of electricity and all went black.
______________________________________________________________________________

>Bright lights approach, a pulse of energy consumes everything in its path. Those who were fortunate enough to avoid it, cower; those who aren’t perish. A gasp and then silence, the world becomes black. You swim through the void in total quiet. There is nothing, just endless black.

>Then you see it, a beacon of bright white. It sings to you, beckons you to come to it. You hear nothing but you know it whispers sweet to you. As you approach, you feel the cold shedding around you replacing it with warmth.

>A voice calls to you and you hearken to the sound. Pretty certain someone said not to go near the light you muse.

“Ey~” the voice echoed.

>”Yeah?” you reply

>”Eyyy~” the voice echo once more

>”What?” you reply again, confusion beginning to take root.

“Proklyat'ye, prosnis'!” the voice yells and you feel a swift kick to your stomach.

>The wake up boot shatters the dark around you and you come to once more into the world. Your eyes burst wide open and you take a long gasp, as if you hadn’t breathed in hours. You look around for your alarm but find nothing or anyone. Except… a girl?

>She looks at you with a monotone stare, squatting near you hands over her knees wearing a combat boots, olive drab raincoat and a suit under it.

>”Who are you?” you inquire, but no answer is given back. Just empty stare glaring into you.

>>33427387
>After moments of awkward silence, you try to communicate again. “You know where my gun went?” you ask her. No answer, but she simply points down and you look at where she points and feel a flick on your nose. She gives you a scoffs with a soft chuckle before getting up and walking away. You grimace, the cheeky little shit.

>You chase after her but not before picking up your shooter.

>”Hey! Where’re you going?” you shout after her.
“Tam” she answers flatly, pointing towards the Rookie Village.

“Oni khotyat znat', chto sluchilos'” She says, while never making an eye contact or facing you.

>You and the girl trot down the road wordlessly. The area is silent, gone are the animal activities that were abundant several minutes ago, but your eyes still dart around for any suspicious movements. You’ve nearly died once and you don’t want to push your luck.

>You reach that familiar dirt path to the village, when a sentry notices your arrival. You see his eyes widen in surprise and he begins to run to the village center, alerting everyone of your arrival. Soon enough, curious souls begin to emerge from the broken down houses and shacks; all clearly wanting to see the lucky stalker who just survived an emission.

>A small crowd forms around you, everyone murmuring something in their respective language. Some obvious with surprise and others with disbelief of your sheer fortune. You recognize some familiar faces in the crowd, it’s Pastor and Dima.

>>33427413
“Well I guess Boris was right! Your luck is unquestionable friend!” Dima laughed.

“Looks like someone is looking out for you, Tourist.” Pastor nodded.

>”What, I’m not just a number anymore?” you smirk.

“After what you just survived? Nah” Pastor shakes his head with a smile

“Tourist, go talk to the old man in the bunker, he’ll want to know what happened” Dima finishes as he pats you on the back.

>”Yeah, but I brought someone else with me” You say.

“And who’s that?” Pastor asks.

>”A girl? In a suit like yours” You answer.

>Dima and Pastor give you a questioning look, as they look around.

“Tourist, there’s no girl with you” said Dima.

>”Yes, there is I just came here with her just now…” You trail off as you look around for her. Where’d she disappear to? Pastor looks a bit concerned.

“You okay there Tourst? Surviving an emission, a psy emission even, can do things to your mind” Pastor asks you.
>”Yeah, I feel fine… could’ve sworn I saw a girl when I woke up…” You murmur, but Dima pushes along to make a report to Sidorovich.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s alive and he completed his first job. Good on you, Tourist” Dima congratulates you.

>You follow Dima’s suggestion and push your way past the crowd towards the bunker. You meet Sidorovich with a pleased smile on his face.

“You survived! And you have my runner with no losses, not bad for your first mission Tourist. You might become the next Zone legend at this point, if you aren’t already.” He chuckles.

>>33427443
>”What do you mean?”

“A psy emission just occurred but here you are talking to me like a normal person, and Kryll’s leg wound isn’t as bad as the doctor tells me. You accomplish the impossible and then return with good news, I’d say that’s a good start to a Zone legend like.. Oh a certain person.” He finishes.

“Anyhow, the money’s transferred to your account for the work. Keep the shooter, usually I’d have people give it back but you earned it”

>”Gee, thanks Sid.” you answer dryly.

“Don’t mention it” he wave you off with a grin.

“By the way you got a plan, Tourist?”

>”What plan?” you ask while putting away your newly gained pistol.

“You had your first taste of the Zone, I’m asking you if you’re up for more and being more than some gullible American who fell for the most obvious tourist scam to see Pripyat”

>”What, you trying to tempt me into reaching the center or something?”

“Why, I would never do such a thing; it’s almost suicidal not to mention insane.. But you did come here for Pripyat didn’t you?”

>”I did” You reply

“And so did others… then again it’s not like you have much options here. Your way out is gone, most likely replaced with different soldiers manning the checkpoints and Cordon does get awfully boring…”

>“It sounds like you really want me to reach the center.” You shoot back.

“Well, of course I do, it’s every trader’s dream to start peddling products from the center. We had our brief moment when the way to Pripyat was open for while…” Sidorovich trailed off.

Whatever happened to that Giantess writer?

>>33427474
>“Then something happened” You say, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Someone reactivated the Scorcher, blocking the North access once more.” the Trader grumbles.

>“How many people did you try to convince to reach the center, Sid?” You ask him

“What number did Pastor give you?” He quips.

>You merely grumble at his comeback.

“So how about it Tourist? How badly do you want to go to Pripyat?”

>”I’m gonna have to get back to you on that one. I nearly died on a simple fetch mission. Not too keen on stretching my luck again”

“Of course, take as long as you need to recharge your luck.” He waves as he sends you off.

I was worried that I'd have to write more but it seems that I wrote down a lot of materials before going into hiding. Unfortunately,I don't have as much time or energy to put into now that I'm working.

>>33427502
Busy with uni

File: unnamed (2).png (209KB, 584x370px) Image search: [Google]

209KB, 584x370px

Anyone else still here on this wonderful Saturday night? If so, props to you, and everything you guys do to keep me writing!

>>33427338
You see, the thing about it is that people are heavily weighed down, fighting the weight of their packs, food, water they keep INSIDE their jacket and drink quickly in order to prevent it from flash freezing, the radios that would freeze to the point that they wouldn't work if kept outside their clothes, and of course, the weight of the clothes and the force to overcome their inclination toward their shape in order to move. All of this would be fought in low oxygen environments that are as low as negative 250 degrees at times in winds of hundreds of miles an hour. On the other hand, nano suits are slower and more deliberate because wearers don't need sleep, they don't fatigue, the suits can keep them alive in low to no oxygen environments for days at a time as long as they can grab energy from something, which never fails to be present on location. The main difference is that the sixteen hundred pound manned suits don't have a much bigger footprint than climbing boots, yet weigh more than five times as much for those two pressure points, making navigation of the mountain a bit challenging for the operators of the 2170's when traversing over snow, since they now weigh as much as several motorbikes and are very dense in terms of size to weight ratio.

File: 1464918661486.jpg (2MB, 2894x4961px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 2894x4961px

Got a question for you all: Which one of my stories are you enjoying the most right now? Just want to gauge what people actually think of my different works.
>>33428191
Still here, currently writing.

I've noticed that there are actually quit a few mistakes in my writing, after rereading through some sections that I've already posted, so I'm fixing those as I go.
Now whoever looks at my Pastebin will see marginally fewer errors.

>>33428422

I'll raise a glass of scotch to you buddy - you're among the more popular writefags, something that perhaps I'll be one day.

Something I'm always worried about is that my VN is a huge flop, and that people won't really enjoy it at all.

Though I guess, even if that happens, I still have you guys.

File: IMG_8222.jpg (130KB, 696x1077px) Image search: [Google]

130KB, 696x1077px

>>33408522
Slowly, quietly, the operators proceeded down the stairs, rifles shouldered and red dots settled on the area ahead. The flow of radiation was growing stronger, they could feel it, coming closer to the Elephant’s Foot that was supplying the insurgents with constant nuclear material.
The radioactive sludge was being repurposed into fresh, plutonium, which was perfect for dirty bombs, before being loaded into lead containers which would drive to cities. Most times they were caught, but it turns out the guards meant to secure the gate weren't at their post, making it easy for the rebels to blow up the Kremlin.
Nadine: [You smell that?]
Annushka: [Yes… It smells like… Death.]

The stench was heavy, a mixture of carbon-14, nitrogen, and molten metal hitting their noses, causing sensors to nearly go off as the hazardous gas made contact with the operators. Annushka wrinkled her nose in distaste, looking over at Nadine.
Annushka: [It's fucking disgusting.]
Nadine: [Thats the conversion process for the material. Their repurposing the Elephant’s Foot for plutonium to weaponize it.]
Annushka: [Lets hit it, quick.]

They picked up pace, silent as they worked through the dark facility. Soon a room was found, a light flickering from within to highlight a bit of the hallway.
The bright flashlights on their rifles were turned off and the pair stacked up on the doorway, Annushka crouched at point.
Annushka: [Take …₽!§»]
Nadine: [The hell?]
It seemed the radiation was affecting their neural interface much more as they were exposed to the high concentrations of it, the raven haired woman shaking her head a bit as she tried to shake the feeling off. A hand signal was used, fist up over her shoulder before a finger came up and pointed inside. The message was clear, Nadine placing her own hand on Annushka’s shoulder, gently squeezing it and moving around the woman, moving into the room with the other behind.

>>33428463
>you're among the more popular writefags
Really? Sure doesn't feel like it.

As for your VN, I never really played VNs (or really much vidya in general for that matter), but if it's as good as what you have produced for the threads, it'll be fine. I am looking forward to it.

>>33420822
Who's ready for some more xeno heresy? btw, wanna help me find more pictures of Pitra? Remember, red eyes, whiite hair, blue tau. the more Pitra pics the better. and not in contact with humans unless you want to give appearance to Jack. (Brown Hair, green eyes, hollow cheeks.)

Chapter 7:Good Will and Malignancy.
Log entry number one. Earth date September twelve twenty-one seventy-one. Thirty days on earth is a long time, but so short for the amount of travel and wandering Pitra and I have done. We spent a good week in north america visiting such sites as mount Rushmore and the murder cube. in two weeks we were in Rhodesia, exploring some of the sights to be seen there, many of which surprisingly, I hadn't seen myself. I eventually got home to Salisbury with about a week left in our stay on earth before being dispatched back. Somehow I wasn't surprised when we started getting looks while we wandered through the city. What DID surprise me however was when I found out why. It is afterall not every day that you find yourself on the cover of a magazine, let along for such a minor reason as a speculative piece on whether you're having an extra marital affair with an alien. Which was amusing because I've never been married. Usually print media's been reserved for IMPORTANT things, like hard copy archival, not selling in markets for such outright petty purposes as gossip, it's even been seldom sold outside books, which have been more or less a redundant hard copy archive of digital text forms for at least a century. In any case, Pitra and I decided I should visit anyone who might still recognize me from before the earth defense force. So that surprisingly left only my Parents, who had to look at me a good two minutes before either of them recognized me. The joyful reunion was a surprise, though to no surprise they had to ask if the headlines on the publications were true, an honest answer of "Hard to have an affair when you've never been married" being given.

>>33429661
Altogether, it was a surprisingly happy reunion, even if only for an hour or two. Though even writing this I realize I'm a little caught in the past, having even miss-dated this entry as being from twenty-one seventy-one. Let's correct that now, Twenty-one seventy-three. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I was at my parents' house, ole' ma and pa asking what I've been doing for eight years. Imagine the surprise on their face when they found out I gave up a promising career of being a mass driver engineer and getting to see the colonies to join the EDF. Sometimes in life you almost have all the answers. Though, probably to my dying day I will never have the answer to, "I can understand why you done it, son, but... Why the way you did? You just walked out and never said a word, we never saw you again. Do you know what it's like to have someone you love just... gone?" The answer to the second half was yes, but I don't remember why I did. They must have been worried to death for some time, accepting that for whatever reason their son wandered off and never came back for eight years. They probably looked at pictures of me the way I thought of my memories of Jenny. In a few hours They had stuff to do and I had places to be, but it was still nice to see them, even if it wasn't nearly enough time for all those years. Oh well, time goes on. Soon enough Pitra and I had no time left on earth and went back to Washington where President Jackson saw us off and sent us on our way with some communications equipment, and a couple prototypes for myself and the lady to try out, notably a prototype generation nine Nano suit, which can apparently be removed by the wearer without the neurological shocks that killed many operators and without the symptoms, though a few features like the integrated predictive analytics system are advised non use items or have tabs that say "use with caution." Even as I write this I have Pitra lying on my shoulder and suits in wait. And an M-25.

File: 1471698297105.jpg (157KB, 798x714px) Image search: [Google]

157KB, 798x714px

>>33427539
Tourist returns! And with a new, invisible friend. Shit's happening in the Zone. Strange shit. But, when isn't there? Getting excited about Zone shenanigans.

>>33428376
So what you're saying is that the challenges of climbing Everest aren't gone, they're just different. Still difficult but for other reasons.

>>33428422
Hell, I enjoy all your writing, for slightly different reasons. I prefer variety, and it's very hard for me to have favorites.

>>33428463
What you've shown so far is very nice. I'm hoping to get to fund it some day.

>>33428601
How are they making plutonium out of the core? The insurgency got androids of their own? Also, take that techno links. Silent killer radiation takes you down to primitive hand signals! Sorry... Enjoying operating innareactor.

>>33430003
I'm ready! How can it be heresy if it feels so good? What new adventures will the xenocouple get into now that they have new toys to play with?

>>33430140
The radioactive compounds fused with the molten concrete and metal in the Elephant's Foot is being repurposed into plutonium.

>>33430003
It's been about eight days since we left earth, we should be back on acrassas in another twenty four to thirty six hours of elapsed time. Given the massive distance between the worlds and the speed at which the Acra manage to travel, I have to wonder how much the worlds age beyond that of Pitra and I as such physical factors like basic and special relativity take their effect. If I were to set the supercomputers of the nano suit to the task I suspect they could make the calculation. In any case, the only existing entities that are of any substance to me anymore seem to be that prototype nano suit, the communication gear, maybe the M-34 and M-25 they sent with me, and of course Pitra, my only companion thus far, who I've ascertained secretes alcohol and some form of stimulant through saliva and some sort of stimulant pheromone when aroused, which is becoming seemingly more frequent. Whether this is due to some form of bonding between her and myself, some biological impulse or even a deliberate action on her part bears some looking into. Discreetly of course. Maybe I'll play with the new nano suit, but... Truthfully I dread the idea of losing myself in it as I have in my previous suit. Lastly of note, I may have picked up something in Africa, maybe Malaria. My joints seem to have occasional bouts of aching and I was there in the correct time window. Will try to get into the nano suit for recovery if symptoms become prominently pronounced. I will also attempt to get Pitra into the one made for her if she to falls ill. Luckily the potentially lethal strains of malaria are not common where we were. John "Outcast" Herman, signing off.
>Jack signed the page he'd filled with his pen, tucked it into the spine and clapped the log closed.
>Pitra stirred, lifting her face, as jack began stroking her hair. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing yet. But would you promise me something?"
>"Anything." Pitra said, taking Jack's hand in hers.
"If I get sick, put on your nano suit."

>>33427338
There's a very specific show that influenced the story. There's only a few chapters left, so all you have to do is wait and find out

>>33412976
I found a lot of issues with syntax, some run on sentences, and questionable tense usage.

All in all, I liked the premise and would prefer to see more. It is strange to see it in second person, as if being instructed on your own personal history.

Let's see where it goes from here.

>>33430769
>"What's wrong? Why do you think you'll get sick?"
"My joints have been aching, could be nothing or it could be malaria. Have you been feeling odd at all?"
>Pitra placed her head on Jack's chest and his hand in her hair. "I've been feeling fine. So... What would the suit do if I got in and you were sick?"
"It fights a lot of the battles your body fights for you better. You've imprinted on the one they made for you right?"
>"Yes. It was scary and unpleasant."
"Good, then we can go back to sleep."
>With that, Jack turned out the light he'd been writing under, and went back to stroking Pitra's hair while he waited for sleep to overtake him. Overall he felt he'd found a simple and uniquely pleasant place in the universe. He was in a loving relationship, he finally felt warmth that wasn't merely the suit disallowing him from feeling cold, and he still had challenges ahead, and even present.
>Jack had no small number of things to think about, but the presence of challenges and hardships lurking was better than their total absence. For what man would know heaven if not for hell? These things were all fine and dandy to him, save for one, which reminded him WHY heaven is defined by hell. What would happen to Pitra if he fell ill? Would she be too different for such a sickness to adapt to her biology? Would she be immune? Would she perish in her footprint? Would he?
"Tomorrow we'll have to call for a sanitation scan. I hope there IS a tomorrow." Jack thought to himself, eventually concluding that he may as well just get his rest, as there was no course of action he could take, quieted his mind, and let sleep take him.

That's it for tonight, it's five AM, so I'll be seeing you guys later on. I have... plans for this story.

>>33429495
your stories are my favorites

>>33430943
What is this story named on Pastebin? I'm not sure which one it is.

>>33431203
The Night Reich.

File: 1471695891033.jpg (181KB, 1024x699px) Image search: [Google]

181KB, 1024x699px

>>33430943
That last part there got a lot more heavy. Maybe more so than you intended it to. But that's nice. Helps put Jack's things into a new perspective. And I'm sorry. I keep posting about your story while you're in the middle of a post dump. I'll try to pay more attention and try not to do that. I don't like interrupting.

>>33397612

I used to be a writer.

I had long hair, then. And sometimes she'd out flowers in it.

I had quit drinking, back then. I had a lot of problems, back then. She had a lot of problems. Toxic liver. Toxic lover.

I wandered South and West. I went to school, I think. Found a little place with some little people that I thought were like me. But they lacked the militant spirit, the scars on the knuckles. Real fighting isn't done with words and round-table-dialogues.

Didn't know what I was, then. Drank a lot and fought some. Lost some. Got my head put through the drywall, one night.

Woke up one morning hungover, laying next to a bad girlfriend.

Went down to see that recruiter again.

The old cadence says "Nah-Nah-Nah-Nah, Hey-y-y-y, I'm going home"

But I am home. That was two and some-odd years ago.

Sometimes I'll write a little something for my girl to wake up to. Nothing like I used to.

Yeah, I's a writer once.

>>33427539
Good to see your story again, hyped for more of the Tourist's journey into the zone, got me back into CoC when you started it

>>33432759
I...
DAMN, dude. That hits pretty close to home.

File: 50-bmg-comparison.jpg (1MB, 2000x1612px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 2000x1612px

Apologies for no St Patty's Day update, work's had me drained. Still alive, hopefully get some more Barrett pumped out later this week.

>>33433552

Like I said, I was a writer once.

Let's hear your voice.

>>33431370
don't worry about it, that post soree was several hours in length and kinda tapered off in the morning.

>>33424222
Trips demand.

>>33416071
Ivra blinked owlishly in the bright light of the launch bay. He had been rousted from sleep only moments ago, told to put on his flying gear and dragged up to the roof of the City. It was far too early in the morning to be running a test. The faces of the military officers supervising were grim. Something was happening, he could feel it in the air.

As a Sha'dee male, Ivra was shorter and more compact than his female counterparts, making his sex ideal test pilots. The extra strength to wrestle with analog controls in high wind didn't hurt either. He had been doing this for several years now, and he absolutely loved it. Heavier-than-air flight was a new concept to the Sha'dee. They had had a decent handle on airship technology for a few decades now, but until recently any other method had been dismissed as impossible. Once the base concept was cracked, the technology had exploded, driven by an arms race between the Serev and Kessai nations.

The current generation of aircraft he had been testing was the most advanced yet, with metal skeletons instead of wood to support the fabric covering. The biggest challenge had been finding an alloy light enough, but also durable enough to serve on an aircraft with the relatively weak engines at their disposal. The biggest innovation in this iteration of aircraft, however, was the introduction of a radio unit. This had been the holy grail for a while now: an aircraft with the size and power to house a long-range communications device, and the range and speed to make use of it. The potential uses for military intelligence alone were staggering.

>>33434693
The plane was already loaded onto the catapult. To extend range as far as possible and compensate for weaker engines, steam-powered catapults were used in place of a runway. The theory being that fuel spent getting the plane off the ground was fuel wasted, when you could simply pipe steam from one of the City's power plants to the roof. The craft was equipped with skids, which would be used to land it in the desert sand outside, where it would be loaded onto a truck and hauled back to the City.

This particular plane was designed for reconnaissance, with two seats. One for the pilot, and another for the observer/radio operator. Ivra was the designated observer for this mission, and his pilot was already seated in the aircraft, waiting. He hurried over to the plane, where ground crewmen were holding a climbing pole for him. Scaling it with a nimbleness born of arboreal ancestors, he lowered himself into the observer's seat. Ivra flicked a switch and spun a few dials, powering up the radio and tuning it. He checked his other gear as well, from the bulky camera rising from between his feet to the submachinegun in its sheath to his left side.

While he was completing his personal checklist, the ground crew was swarming around them, checking the catapult and craft in detail. An officer climbed up beside him, holding out a map with a location marked on it.

"You are to proceed to this location, survey the marked area and take photographs if you see anything unusual. Remain in regular radio contact at all times, and report anything strange immediately. This is serious business, we're counting on you." The officer explained. "Oh, and watch your language on the radio. The Empress may be listening."

Ivra swallowed nervously, suddenly apprehensive. If the newly crowned ruler was listening to him, this must be serious indeed. Shoving it out of his mind he studied the map, memorizing all the pertinent information while the hanger doors ground slowly open.

>>33434703
Two crewmen approached the propeller behind Ivra's pilot, and gave it a hefty spin, bringing the engine sputtering to life. He cracked his knuckles and wrapped his gloved hands around the bar in front of him as the climbing sticks were pulled away and the catapult elevated into launch position. The pilot gave an affirmative hand signal, and the catapult fired.

They were flung into the air, stalling for a brief moment before the engine took over and they leveled off. Ivra checked the time and their direction in his instrument panel. They should be over the target area by the first sunrise. In the meantime, there was little to do except keep a close eye out.

He had seen it a hundred times before, but there was still something magical about looking down on the desert from above. The rolling dunes, craggy outcroppings of rock and specks of green oasis were beautiful in the low light of early dawn. Most other males thought they were crazy, but to Ivra and his comrades, flying was the most fun they'd ever had. The feeling of the wind whipping around him, the lightness in his gut from soaring high above the ground, it was heavenly.

He'd always been like this, in love with speed, since he'd been old enough to drive a sand-sailer. Eventually he'd graduated to motorbikes and hot-rods, spending more and more time with the adventurous and adrenaline-loving females as his brothers became more interested in science, craftsmanship and team sports. He had been a natural choice for a test pilot, and jumped at the chance.

Of course he had been a fool to think that pushing boundaries was the only reason for the flight program; the Defense Council had always been in charge behind the scenes. Now he was flying military missions almost as often as he was testing new planes. He was happy to do his part, naturally, but it was still time spent doing something other than his real passion.

>>33434713
"How far out?" The pilot yelled behind him.

Ivra checked his map and chronometer.

"Almost there! Slow down and take us lower!" He shouted back over the wind and engine noise, then flicked the talk switch on the radio. "Hello, Control? This is Flight Officer Tohrsi. We are approaching the target, acknowledge."

"Uhhh affirmative on that, Flight Officer. We're standing by, acknowledge." The radio crackled in his ears.

"Affirmative, Control. Standby." Ivra straightened up and peered over the edge of the cockpit at the valley below, fishing a spyglass out of his jacket.

Desert had given way to prairie here, with the flat planes distorting into rolling hills. Ivra scanned the terrain though his spyglass, not seeing anything out of the ordinary until something caught his eye. A cluster of what looked like hunting bikes, apparently abandoned along a hillside. He reached over and flicked the radio switch.

"Uhhh, Control, this is Flight Officer Tohrsi, I've got something here. Looks like abandoned motorcycles, acknowledge."

The only response he got was static. Ivra checked his tuning, slapped the top of the radio, and tried again. Still, nothing. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind them. Not the low sputter of an engine, or any wind he had ever heard. It was a roar, like a waterfall or an avalanche. He swiveled around in his seat, looking above the pilot and the propeller behind him to see a tiny speck in the sky above the horizon.

Raising his spyglass, he strained to make it out. Whatever it was, it was traveling towards them at incredible speed. The radio crackled and he heard the controller's voice again.

"C... Co.... in... C-Come in! Come in Flight Officer! Are you there? Respond!"

"Yes! Yes! I'm here, Control. I've got something approaching behind me, fast!"

"What is it, Officer?"

"I... I don't know, Control. I've never seen anything like it. More like a fish than a bird, with tiny wings and no propellers anywhere, but it's some kind of aircraft!"

>>33434004
All good. But you better have an Easter update

>>33434722
"Please repeat, Officer, did you say aircraft? Acknowledge." The radio was starting to break up again.

"Yes! Aircraft! It's closing in on us! Please advise!" Ivra yelled, staring at the strange metal vehicle surging through the sky faster than anything he had ever seen in his life. "Hello?! Control?!"

The radio had cut out again.

"Evasive action!" Ivra yelled to the pilot, collapsing his spyglass and jamming it back into his jacket before seizing the bar and holding on tight.

They rolled over to the side, just in time to catch the briefest glimpse of the thing hurtling past them. The shockwave of its passing was enormous, sending their little canvas plane spinning out of control. Ivra mentally thanked the gods he hadn't eaten yet, as his stomach was doing flip-flops.

The plane leveled out, and Ivra was barely able to get his bearings before the pilot was shouting to him.

"It's coming around for another pass!"

Ivra reached to his side and yanked the submachinegun out of its scabbard, bringing it to his shoulder and yanking back the bolt. Keeping the muzzle of the gun on the banking aircraft, he desperately tried to get the radio working, to no avail.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! FUCKING SHOOT IT!" The pilot bellowed.

"NOT YET! I NEED AUTHORIZATION FROM CONTROL!" Ivra yelled back.

"CONTROL CAN GO BOIL THEIR TAILS! THAT THING ALMOST KNOCKED US OUT OF THE SKY!"

The thing appeared to have slowed down, enough that Ivra could get a proper bead on it. It was heading straight for them again. The radio still wasn't responding.

"IVRA YOU GODS DAMNED BASTARD, SHOOT THAT THING!" The pilot roared.

>>33434926
Ivra swallowed, and squeezed the trigger. The gun rattled to life, kicking against Ivra's shoulder and spitting casings everwhere. He managed to keep it somewhat on target, dumping an entire drum magazine into the approaching vehicle. To his horror, the bullets that did hit merely glanced off, producing nothing but sparks. Panicking, he fumbled for another drum, snapping it into the gun just in time to see a long flash of light from the nose of the craft and an instant later, the loudest noise ever.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT

Suddenly, he was tumbling through the air, clinging for dear life to half of a flaming aircraft. The pilot was gone, the only thing left of him was the front half of his cockpit behind Ivra, spattered with dark red blood and engulfed in flames. He struggled to get free as his entire world spun, wrestling with the straps holding him.

Finally he was loose, and tumbling on his own now. In all his years of flying, Ivra had never had to use a parachute for real. But at this point, instinct had taken over and he was yanking the ripcord before he even had time to process the implications. It was just in time, too, as the ground was coming up fast.

The yank of the chute opening felt like he'd been kicked in the chest. He could swear he'd cracked a couple of ribs. But he was no longer falling, at least, not quickly. The gun was dangling below him, still attached to his harness via a lanyard. As he floated slowly down, he watched both halves of the plane smash into the hills below, the rear half exploding violently as ruptured fuel tanks combined with flaming canvas.

The parachute had slowed him down, but the prairie was still approaching at frightening speed. Ivra barely had time to brace himself before he hit ground, tumbling head-over-heels and coming to a stop in a clump of bushes. His world spun erratically around him, pain and confusion clouding his senses until he gave in and passed out.

>>33435082
***

And that's that for now. More later.

File: 14_hitching_a_ride_by_epictones-d508zka.jpg (425KB, 800x1085px) Image search: [Google]

425KB, 800x1085px

bump

so guys, i have been doing some pretty autistic stuff, which involves an art exam and your favourite british GAU-8

>>33436104
do tell

>>33436261
so for my final art piece, im drawing and painting a Jagdtiger in one of those tank trench things. with a still background

No i cannot change it, i am 6 1/2 hours into this 10 hour project.

>>33436282
>e, im drawing and painting a Jagdtiger in one of those tank trench things. with a still backgroundNo i cannot change it, i am
Oh sweet a tank pit.. I do love jagdtigers.. Man I remember the first story that got me here was JTs writing ... hope that fuck is still writing or at least finished his story I loved it.

>>33436326
pretty sure they are still writing, and JTs writing is the entire reason why im doing that as my art piece.

Hopefully i will post images of it when it is finished, but they won't be coming for a month at best, because i am going on holiday to florida on the 29th.

>>33436363
keep the work.. I'm ashamed for my inconstancy here

>>33434220
I, too, had purpose once.

A morning ritual that made sense. Rather, a rising ritual, as it relied not on the position of the sun.

Waking, donning what passes for clothing, some basic hygiene maintenance, and never once forgetting my weapons constituted this ritual.

Each day unique. Each day different. Each day, the same. Pray to my God to spare me that I might reach home alive. Pray that I might make others reach their gods. Pray for peace.

Yes, I had purpose, once.

I was trusted, even. Faith was put in my abilities. The faith of men whose creed claimed no higher power than man. Men, whose faith rested in both otherworldly spirits and in mere mortals, had faith that I would not fail.

Once, I mattered.

>>33434220
Thank you for listening. And for prompting.
>>33436457

File: Rawr!.jpg (559KB, 949x1220px) Image search: [Google]

559KB, 949x1220px

So, it seems it's that time again. I have an update for you all.

For the purpose of catching up, this pastebin link http://pastebin.com/g2x4BLWF is where I'm leading off from.

Here goes!

>>33434498
Do you mean soirée?

Because that's a French word, and we all know French words moved to English vernacular are fucking bonkers to spell.

>>33436549
>You head out the door, lock it behind you, and get in your car to drive to the range
>When you get there and get Lucya out of her case, she transforms into her 'geist form
*Where is Selene's case? I thought she was going with us?*
>You sigh before explaining the situation to her
>"Well, I had to tell her that she wasn't going to be shooting because she's got no scope, or sights or anything."
*Wait, you didn't bring her along anyways?*
>"No, because we fought over that and she basically said that she wanted to be left at home in her case."
>Lucya shakes her head
*Anon, you could have handled that way better you know. You could have at least brought her here to meet other Waffengeist and maybe even another of her Vampirwaffen kind.*
>"I told her that I was going to bring her for that reason, but she couldn't get past the fact that she wouldn't be shooting at all and just told me to go ahead and go shooting with you."
>Lucya looks at you with a straight face before putting her hand over her face and dragging it down until she grabs her chin
*You really don't know anything about how to deal with us, do you?*
>"Well, yeah, I know a few things; but Selene's completely different."
*And there you go, wrong again.*
>You almost glare at Lucya until you see that she's smiling at you
>"I'm listening."
*She's a Vampirwaffen, meaning that she's a Waffegeist as well. You know the important thing about that? It means that she wants and deserves to be treated like one. Some of us prefer to be in weapon form, but for the ones who have owners that care for us and takes us shooting every now and then. You do that with me, and you say that she's different, but she's not. So treat her like you treat me; well, with some adjustments, considering that she's a precision rifle, and I'm your first rifle, okay?*
>You nod

>>33436563
>"Alright, I think I get it, Lucya. The issue is that she doesn't have any sort of sights or optics. At this point, I'd just be lining up my eye with her barrel and aiming down range."
>Lucya puts a hand on her hip and her other one picks up her ammo can
*Doesn't mean that she wouldn't like to shoot. It may be a slight waste of the ammo since it couldn't do that well, but you were a little rude to her in saying that she couldn't go with you.*
>"That was part of it, but I really didn't want to kill her confidence in herself by doing poorly with her."
>I also grab the special ammo can and the targets for the day and we both walk over to the tables behind the firing line
>The range is outdoors, and has an uncovered area and a covered area with shooting benches in the covered area
>Behind the benches there's a table that's built into the bench covering
>There's also benches behind the open area
>The range has target boards at the end of lanes starting at around 3 meters and reaching all the way out to 400 meters
>Per Lucya's request, you go ahead and put targets up at the 50 meter board
>When you get back, she's counting out the stripper clips in the can that she brought out of the car
>She has a perturbed look on her face
*I'm missing a few clips here, Anon. Any idea where they went?*
>You walk up to her with the ammo can you brought in your hand and put it down in front of her on the table
>"I found them in here, not sure what your stripper clips are doing in one of my old cans."
>She looks at it for a second before opening the can
>Her free hand shoots right up to her mouth and you hear a faint *Oh my God...*
>You're smiling by this point
>She looks back up at you, and then back down at the ammo before looking at you once more and vaulting over the table
>You take a step back to avoid getting hit by her as she climbs over
>But once she lands, Lucya immediately closes the distance and wraps her arms around you
*Thank you thank you thank you thank you!*

>>33436578
>"No problem, Lucya! Glad you like them already. We should try them out though before you definitively say you like them."
>She nods and turns around, taking all but two stripper clips out of the can and closing it
>"Not all of them?"
*You kept ten rounds after that last range trip you went on with all your friends. I can only assume that was for home defense as you don't have a pistol or a shotgun.*
>You chuckle
>"Right on the nose, Lucya. You know me too well some times."
*I'd rather you be able to be safe than shoot all the ammo that you bring me. Where did you get it this time?*
>You and Lucya walk over to the other side of the table, up to the benches
>"Some reloaded ammo that is from a company that my grandfather knows of. It's run by a few of his friends who know what they're doing. They reload a lot of the obscure rounds along with all of the more commonly seen ones."
*As long as you trust their quality, I'll try them out. They have to be better than that steel cased junk you fed me up until now.*
>"Sorry Lucya, I didn't know that you disliked them that much."
>She grabs all the clips of the steel case ammo that you brought, exactly 50 rounds, and places them on the benchtop
*That's alright, I didn't tell you anything before, so you couldn't have known.*
>She reaches an arm out towards you
>You grab the inside of her forearm as she grabs yours and she transforms into her rifle form
>Despite all the scratches, places where the finish is wearing on her wood, and the marks showing the rifle's age, she's still beautiful in this form to you
>That's not to say that her Waffegeist form wasn't beautiful as well
>You just like admiring the look of her in this form
>You load a clip into her magazine and close the bolt
>Sitting down at the bench, you aim at the target at 50 meters
*You're going to miss, you know.*

>>33436590
>"What the-?"
>You stop aiming and look Lucya over, still in her rifle form
>Maybe you were just hearing it?
>Deciding that it was your mind playing tricks on you, you re-aim
*Don't move this time, it's actually me.*
>"Lucya?"
*Yes, now if you hold still, I'll tell you something.*
>"Alright."
*A trick that I learned back when I was in the war; after you've spent enough time with one person, Waffengeist are able to communicate with their shooters telepathically when they're held close to the shooters face. You know, like right now, when you're about to shoot.*
>You think about it, and decide you really don't want to put the effort into trying to figure out how that works
>"So you've deemed that we've spent enough time together for you to tell me your secrets like that?"
*Nope, it's just that unlike with my shooter during the war, I actually showed my Waffegeist form to you.*
>"Fair enough, Lucya. So then, enlighten me on why I was going to miss."
>The next few minutes were spent with her describing in detail what you were doing wrong
>Granted, until you bought her, you could count the amount of times you've been shooting with friends or relatives on one hand
>So not like you had much experience with it
>Lucya was a better teacher than anyone else you'd been shooting with
>About half an hour later, you'd been through 30 out of the 50 rounds
>And you had improved greatly
>Lucya barely said anything past *Good, again.* or *Old habits are back.* after about the 25th round
>It seemed like she'd slipped into acting more like someone who had a military background and training instead of her normal calm, soft, and caring self
>Not that you minded
>Her change in demeanor had done the effect she wanted
>You and her went through the rest of the steel case and moved over to the bench behind you
>She changes back to Waffegeist form
*Phew, you've gotten better. If I'd known you needed that much help with shooting I'd have shown myself earlier.*

>>33436601
>"Why didn't you the first time we went shooting? Or the time that I was here with a bunch of friends?"
>She takes a few breaths in and out, calming herself down
>Looking over at her, she has sweat on her brow, but still looks like she could continue for most of the afternoon if she wanted to
>And it wasn't even lunch time
*Well the first time you brought me here, I was about as excited as you were that I was getting to shoot again. And the time you were here with your friends, you were having a great time with them, so I didn't want to interrupt.*
>"Oh, alright. From now on, let me know if I'm messing up or anything, alright?"
*Sure, that being said, those two over there look very familiar to me. I think I saw them that day.*
>You look over and see a man and a woman walking over towards the covered area
>Hand in hand
>Looking at them again, you almost didn't recognize them because they weren't arguing at all
>It was one of your friends that had graduated from grad school the year before
>And the girl, well that was his AR-15 he'd built
>You remember that when you were at the range with all your friends, that the two of them were arguing something fierce
>You also remember thinking that they'd hate fuck later
>This causes you to smirk as the two of them get close
>"Jeff, Stacy, how are you two?"
"Can it, Anon. Been a while though, we're fine; how about you?"
>"Been better, been worse."
>Stacy points to Lucya
'Is she your Nagant?'
*I am, my name is Lucya. You two end up making up after the last time we were all at the range at the same time?*
>Jeff begins to smirk as well
>Stacy, on the other hand, turns bright red
>You look back at Lucya and she's smirking about as hard as you are right now
>Apart from that, the next hour or so goes normally with Jeff and Stacy settling down and beginning to go about their range day
>You pull out the brass case ammo you'd found for Lucya

>>33436615
>Sitting down at the bench, you load the first stripper clip, aim, and fire a round
>In your head, you hear what sounds like Lucya's voice
>"Lucya, you good?"
*Mmmyes...That stuff is SO much better than that steel case you've fed me, let's keep going!*
>29 rounds later, the two of you are out of ammo, excluding the 10 rounds that Lucya insisted on keeping for home defense
>Jeff and Stacy ran out of ammo a while ago, and so Jeff started shooting with his pistol, a CZ of some sort
>Stacy walks over to you and Lucya as you are packing up to head out
'So, you two, uh... you know?'
*No, we're not. Although that new rifle he got is hot~*
>Stacy lights up at those words
'You got another rifle?! Oh yay! What kind?!'
>"Ruger Precision Rifle, her name is Selene."
'Why didn't you bring her along? I'd love to meet her!'
>"Well, she doesn't come with any sort of optics, and I don't have the funds to even get her any right now. I told her this as we were all getting ready to go to the range today and she and I got into a fight."
'Shit, that's not good.'
>"Yeah, I might have said that I never asked for her in the first place and then she just told me to leave her there and shut herself in her case."
'Wait, you said she doesn't come with any sort of sights? Can she at least see in her Waffegeist form?'
*She has to borrow an old pair of his glasses to get around, but even then her vision isn't that great.*
>Stacy's face turns serious
'Wait here.'
>Stacy bolts towards the table behind the pistol range that has Jeff's range bag
>Jeff turns around and starts talking with her
>She must have found what she wanted because she ran back over to you and Lucya
'Gimme your hand.'

>>33436631
>"W-what?"
'Just hold out your hand!'
>You comply with her demand
>She drops two objects into your hand
>Looking at them, you see that they are flip-up sights that would fit perfectly on Selene's top rail
'You take those back with you, I don't need them anymore. Regardless, you take those back, apologize to her the best you can, make sure she knows that you want her to stay with you, and then you bring her here next weekend and give her those, understand me?'
>You nod your head
>Looking over at Jeff, he gives you a thumbs up
>Stacy points a finger at Lucya
'And you make sure he does it, got me?!'
>Lucya chuckles a little
*I find it amusing that you think you can boss me around. However, I planned on that already. I like having both of them happy.*
>Stacy flinches but doesn't back down
'Good, because I'd have words with both of you if he doesn't.'
>Stacy runs back over to Jeff, who hugs her
>You and Lucya pick back up the stuff that you brought and load up the car
>"Hopefully it'll be enough."
>You start the car and Lucya gets in the passenger seat and buckles up
*It will be, you can apologzie well enough.*
>You pull away from the range, you and Lucya waving back to Stacy
>Unbeknownst to you, Stacy turns to Jeff as he finishes shooting
'Alright, how the hell did she know that we did what we did after that range trip.'
"Stacy, I have no idea. Were we that obvious?"
'Guess so...'
***

>>33436645
And that, ladies, gentlemen, and Waffegeist, is all that I have for now. This section will be concluded at a later date, hopefully this was a lot more of a pleasant tone than the last update, and I hope you liked it.

Thanks again for reading.

>>33436669
Good writing... since I have stopped drinking my ability to write has shriveled up and I feel like shit every freaking day.

>>33436558
no, I meant spree, but again, I'm having a hard time staying away anymore, so I better get back to checking those digits so I don't go into a coma.

File: tumblr_onekgaGon11u8wfz9o1_540.gif (3MB, 523x810px) Image search: [Google]

3MB, 523x810px

>>33436669
I really am liking this. Keep up the good work man, we'll be waiting.

File: 1471710346697.jpg (106KB, 1024x787px) Image search: [Google]

106KB, 1024x787px

>>33432759
>>33436457
Heavy stuff man. Good stuff.

>>33435103
Sha'dee first aerial combat against futureBRRRRRT. That's bad luck. They'll never get to experience the cavalier days of early aerial warfare, trading pot shots with pistols.

>>33436669
I feel bad for Selene, but at least the range day was a good success. BUIS won't be a good replacement for real glass, but it'll work well enough for now, won't it?

>>33436457
>>33436488

You did well, battle buddy.

>>33436767
Really, drinking in order to write doesn't make you a writer. It makes you a drunk that spews word vomit onto pages, and a recovering alcoholic that cleans up the mess the next morning.

You do know Mussorgsky died of diphtheria, right? He may have made a lot of good shit, but letting the process kill you is no way to go.

File: 1488375587922.png (528KB, 1000x1600px) Image search: [Google]

528KB, 1000x1600px

>>33427539
>tfw no artifact gf
Loved the update, m8. Totally understand the whole life interference thing. Looking forward to the next when, when you happen to find time for it.

>>33438476
I still haven't played through once.

File: 1471997742185.jpg (137KB, 640x1136px) Image search: [Google]

137KB, 640x1136px

>>33438640

File: Things that are okay.png (9KB, 640x360px) Image search: [Google]

9KB, 640x360px

bump

>>33436767
Well, it's better that you aren't drinking, but sucks that you don't write as much. The fact that you feel like shit every day sounds like you had some bad amount of alcoholism, but that's not my place to say.
Glad you liked the writing though.

>>33437291
Thank ya mate

>>33437552
They'll let her put shots on target, and it'll make her happy; works enough in my books I'd say.

>>33437552
>>33440302
>implying the sun ever sets on iron-sighted bolt-actions

>>33440302
>>33437552
>>33440382
Is it bad that I believe that guns made without any form of iron sights, or designed specifically for glass ONLY, are inferior?

>>33407983
This is useful. Not having much of this explains why my story, while very interesting to me, didn't have much of a following.

I guess I thought I would go for consistency; posting a new chapter for 15 or so threads in a row. But I guess I focused too much on the setting and the raifu and not making the characters actually interesting or raise serious stakes.

I had it all planned out a long time ago, and would still like to come back to it someday. Hopefully people will like it on it's own merrits.

>>33440424
>you will never bully your stuck-up precision rifle by removing her optic and laughing as he knocks into things and cries for her glasses back
Wew lad

>>33440732
>*she

File: 1449583710117.jpg (44KB, 480x640px) Image search: [Google]

44KB, 480x640px

bump

>>33435082
this made me moist

If anyone still cares, I'm not on hiatus, just been busy lately.

>>33399997
Third world country. Second world means they aligned themselves with the USSR and first world means they aligned themselves with NATO
>They probably don't properly take care of their guns.
That depends on the units. BRMilitaryCop !!FChR9pCRDX1, a fellow BOPE Officer, makes a thread on the political events of Brazil and answers questions regarding the BOPE every two months or so. You can check his threads in desuarchive using the tripcode to find him.

>>33440382
You speak the truth mate.

>>33440424
Selene wants me to inform you that you're wrong. And in her case, there's just a rail on top, you can even have both sights and optics.

>>33440732
No precision raifu bullying allowed, $500 fine paid directly into the 'Buy Selene an optic' fund.

File: image.jpg (196KB, 900x1273px) Image search: [Google]

196KB, 900x1273px

>>33430943
>Jack woke up, the time on the chronometer seeming to say "Eight hours remaining." as opposed to the actual elapsed time, he stared at the clock on the wall for what felt like a good minute before his gaze turned to Pitra's inert form, seemingly so dense.
>Jack ran his hands through her hair for a few minutes and thought to himself how strange her lethargy was, placing his hand on her forehead and deciding that her temperature didn't seem to be perceptibly higher than normal, nor did she show any signs of the chills. All of these were good signs, Jack thought. He pulled his log from the lamp stamd of the cabin and opened it, extracting the pen and writing a brief entry.

Log entry Two. Pitra seems to be unusually lethargic, though she shows no typical signs of malaria when present in humans, her breaths are steady and effortless, she's not perceptibly warmer than normal, and she doesn't show signs of anything resembling the chills. Maybe this has something to do with her as of late increasingly frequent arousal. Maybe she's gone through a period resembling the phenomina of "heat" and is becoming exhausted? maybe she's worn herself out as much as she has me? In any case, we've slept for at least a good sixteen hours. Maybe she is sick and this is the fatigue manifest. Further investigation will be done quietly. If she falls ill, I'll place her in the suit myself. If it doesn't come to that, I'll be thankful. John Herman, signing off

>Jack silently slid the pen back in the spine of the log and quietly closed it, setting it aside.
>He merely enjoyed this time with her while he stroked her hair, thinking about what he'd done to be so lucky, what hook there had to be for him to have someone so pleasant. What would he have to pay the piper and when?
>Pitra stirred and mumbled to him "Ji'kitlei sikripoj noi?" Jack had no idea what she said, but it felt like a rhetorical question.
"Come again, sweetheart?"
>"How are you awake? The stamina of gravity?"

File: 1483780225443.jpg (28KB, 362x359px) Image search: [Google]

28KB, 362x359px

>>33442649
I care comrade, I desire more cryptid shenanigins, and awkward lewds.

I will be watching for updates.

>>33442962
"Nothing like that, I've only been awake a few minutes." Jack said in his defense. "How are you awake? Actually, we've been asleep alarmingly long."
>"Oh? what's it been? sixteen hours?"
"Yes."
>"Don't you humans sleep longer after mating?"
"Not that much longer."
>"Evidently not, would you go back to sleep? Your heartbeats are too loud when you're awake. I can hear you thinking about the consequences in my sleep."
"Thinking about the consquences?"
>"Shut up." Pitra said before slipping Jack a kiss that tasted just a tad metallic, seemingly dulling his senses before the turning the world black again for just another couple hours.
>"Wake up, darling." Jack heard through his haze, as the world turned first, a hazy gray, and then cleared, Pitra on top of him, her blue skin bare and her face adourned by an easy smile that seemed to say it would be a good day for a picnic in the meadow... now if only there was a meadow around.
>Jack turned his head to the chronometer on the wall, now indicating a remaining four hours.
"What did you do to me?"
>"venom."
"So you... stung me? Bit me?"
>"Not strictly. more like a big wet kiss. With a bit of chemical to calm the nerves... a lot."
>Jack dropped his head into the palm of his hand.
"Are you telling me you have a literal sleeping venom?"
>"Well, only after heat. Then it's back to a more mild sedative. stops the mind but not the body. seems like you reacted the way any Acra male would."
"Jesus fucking christ, woman. Is there any other shit I should know about?"
>"Not unril I get to do it to you."
"Fucking christ...whatever, we're landing soon, lets get dressed."

>>33436669
keep going man, good work

File: Jam.jpg (74KB, 720x658px) Image search: [Google]

74KB, 720x658px

>>33442258

>>33442949
No, rifles without built-in irons are inferior. They are just below aperture sights. Open notch sights are the best, bar none.
(Mostly because the ones without built-in sights require you to get more shit and I can't see fucking anything through aperture sights.)

>>33436282
Please show when finished

>>33436326
>>33436363
And I'm still writing. Next update(s) might contain Schürzen, thicc MGs, Detroit and Lily going full wehraboo.

Brb, I'm gonna go stand in the corner of shame for shilling my own story

>>33444107
>thicc
APPROVE
APPROVE
APPROVE

>>33442649
I do, will remain hyped for next update however long it takes

File: 90f569fbae74b5f14d1a4b9fc496a4ef.jpg (5KB, 207x155px) Image search: [Google]

5KB, 207x155px

>>33444107
>not dropping the name in order to shill
Shiggitydiggity

its that time of the thread

File: 1477460376599.jpg (79KB, 715x444px) Image search: [Google]

79KB, 715x444px

>>33445067