/wfg/ Writefag General-im not even mad

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>>34523251
lurking in this thread with a pocketful of (you)s.

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>2 threads behind again
yay

they will drop trough the day

new to this general
willing to write anything for (You)s

>>34523295
as long as is /k/ related is more than welcome if you got questions check the FAQ on the sticky

vampirefag is up to date
https://pastebin.com/yx2D9baJ

>>34523295
Anything historic vs ayys is always amusing

>>34523275
It's strange to think that women produce more digestive gases than men, and also apparently on average have stinkier gas. Also, you are not the only one with (you)s, you.

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>>34523295

Pregnant Anne Frank shooting Nazis/being saved from Nazis by some 19th Century badass (Confederate Army preferred) is always fun to read.

There was a practically an entire thread dedicated to it a couple weeks back.

https://desuarchive.org/k/thread/34409025/#34412635

Don't ask how this fetish started, just enjoy it.

>>34524024
...I'm sorry what

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>>34524140

*sighs*

Okay, well I guess I can give you the short version.

Last year, some cheeky little bastard posted a pregnant Anne Frank erotic copypasta on /pol/ and it went viral on reddit and youtube comments sections. It's loaded with references to the movies Fury and Mad Max, lyrics from Jeff Mangum songs, the bombing of Dresden, and subliminal pro-Confederate messaging. It's pretty much posted everytime a thread related to Anne Frank pops up.

Last March, a drawfag on /his/ was kind enough to do a couple pics based on the copypasta. Now, the pics are popular /dixie/ general and time travel threads.

pic related, the copypasta.

>>34524024
>>34524238
please stop

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Thoughts on this? Please try to ignore the autistic parts. I'd love some feedback on the writing style. This is an excerpt from a 500+ page piece so don't worry about lack of context.

https://pastebin.com/ks1YJVjG

>>34524499
It's been posted around here before right?

>>34524499
>please try to ignore the autistic parts
>but anon
>it's all autistic parts
joking aside, seems decent enough. combat scenes are a little lackluster.

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I created a bit character on the fly for one scene in my novel and now she's going to end in it for the long haul.

It's sci-fi, so she's surrounded by mandrill-men, bioborgs, gigantic apes and worse. All she's got are a few genetic adaptations for surviving a life in microgravity and a fuckton of aggression. She's also 4'9" tall and an exile from a totalitarian hoplophobic arcology.

Given her short height and comical desire to prove herself as *the* badass mercenary who don't need no gun, I need ideas for a weapon that would make her memorable.

Anyone have any ideas?

>>34524766
well you could take 2 options, either something of a tryhard gun, like a desert eagle or something that would be also show of skill like a single shot gun to show they only need a shot to remove you

>>34524781
>*the* badass mercenary who don't need no gun

She comes from a hoplophobic society, remember

>>34524766
>>34524781
so she's basically a cross between an oppressed urban inner city youth and a fudd?

>>34524766
A chainsword perhaps?

>>34524593
Yeah, I've gotten some feedback before. I'm trying to really perfect this scene because it's one of the most important, despite not doing a huge amount for the plot (""plot"")

>>34524658
Well I guess ignore the autistic fabric that permeates the entire thing. It's really weird but I don't plan on publishing it or anything, just keeping it locked away safe.

>combat scenes are a little lackluster.

More adjectives? More description? More internal monologue? Less? The story is very visual and writing it frustrates me because I'd rather make a movie/comic but as you can see by the pic I posted my art skills are nonexistent.

>>34524766
SBR'd M82

another story bit is incoming now

prepare for minor dump

criticisms are appreciated as always

>>34525486

Dave was resting his head on the cool metal of the interrogation room’s table, occasionally vocalizing his discomfort in the form of a low groan. His head was pounding; it felt like someone was beating the inside of his skull with a claw hammer. There was a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin sitting across from him on the other side, but they had been placed there more as part of a cruel joke than anything else. The cuffs around his wrists were secured to the table via a short chain, preventing him from reaching over.

Someone opened the door, but he didn't look up. So they slammed the door to get his attention, eliciting a groan from him and forcing him to look up. He saw two people in front of him, a man and a woman. The man was an older fellow with a gentle countenance, and wore a casual grey suit. He walked to one corner of the room and leaned against the wall, next to the one-way mirror.

The woman was significantly younger and a bit of a contrast, wearing a sharp white blouse and black skirt, with a badge on a lanyard around her neck. Very prim and proper. She moved the glass and aspirin off to the side and sat down across from Dave. She put a manila folder down on the table and opened it up, leafing through the contents for a minute or two, letting Dave stew in the suspense. At least that's what he assumed she was doing. He felt a little uneasy, true, but the pounding in his head gave him something to focus on instead.

The woman closed the folder and set it aside, and folded her arms in front of her on the table. She watched him, almost expectantly. When he said nothing, she spoke instead. “David Pope,” she stated, matter-of-factly. “23 years old, born in Charlotte, North Carolina. Moved to Michigan only last year. No prior criminal record.” She left a pregnant pause before her next words. “And yet, a prime suspect in five murder cases, as well as many cases of felony arson.”

>>34525595

She gave Dave a very severe glare, one that reminded him a bit of Chris when she got mad. He smiled at the thought, though the woman was not amused in the slightest.

“Is something I said funny to you, Mr. Pope?”

“No, nothing’s funny miss…” Dave leered over at her badge. “Pedersen.”

“That’s Special Agent Pedersen to you, Mr. Pope.”

“Of course, Special Agent Pedersen. And your partner over there?”

“Special Agent Browning,” said the older man, nodding once.

“There, introductions officially out of the way. Now to the business at hand,” stated Pedersen, her patience being tested.

“I’m not saying anything until I get a lawyer.”

The woman sighed and the man chuckled to himself. "So he's one of those," he mused aloud, crossing his arms.

Dave looked smugly between the two FBI agents, who were looking at each other, as if saying non-verbally discussing something.

Pedersen looked back at Dave. “Mr. Pope, while you do have the right to a lawyer, you should know that cooperating with authorities can help you with obtaining plea deals. Especially if you give information that results in the arrest of accomplices.”

“I have no accomplices.”

>>34525601

Pedersen flipped to another section of the manila folder. “Christina Bridger, 28 years old. Unlike you, she actually has quite a list of criminal offenses. Mostly misdemeanor items, but there are a couple of assaults here on record. Domestic abuse. Destruction of property. Things like that.”

Dave’s eye subconsciously twitched at the mention of Chris, and Browning picked up on it. “She’s got quite the temper, doesn’t she?” he asked suddenly, drawing Dave’s attention.

“I… I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You’re undoubtedly close to her, so you of all people must have felt that temper at some point or other.”

“I’m not understanding-”

“Mr. Pope,” Pedersen interrupted, her voice now raised to a threatening level. “Lying to investigating officials can be used against you as an additional charge. Especially if those officials are federal agents.”

“I’m not lying to you,” said Dave, taking a deep breath to hide his growing nervousness.

“Yes, you are. And it’s going to get you nowhere.” She unclipped a polaroid photograph from the folder and showed it to Dave. It showed Chris and himself walking Cyka down the street, holding hands.

“How the… what the fuck is this?”


“We got warrants to surveil your place of residence,” said Browning nonchalantly.

>>34525610

“You can’t fucking do that… you need probable cause and… and…”

“We have that, too.”

“And how is that so?” asked Dave, growing increasingly agitated.

“We know you and your lady friend took a little trip to a certain small town in Wisconsin very recently,” said Browning with a little hint of a smirk.

Dave gulped.

“Not only do we have the accounts of several eyewitnesses and local authorities, but we’ve got your DNA.”

“DNA found on shards of broken glass right outside of a home that was bombed and then set on fire,” added Pedersen. “With someone inside it. In short, Mr. Pope...”

“Figuratively, you’re fucked. Right in the ass. With a twenty inch dick.” Browning chuckled, brushing off his suit. “And soon, that statement is going to be literal as you serve your debt to society in a federal prison.”

Dave started to go pale, and sweat beaded up on his forehead as the gravity of the situation finally dawned on him.

“Ah, I think he’s finally starting to get it,” said the old man, looking at his younger female partner. “He’s a slow one, that’s for sure.”

“Do you still want to wait for your lawyer, Mr. Pope?” asked Pedersen. It was her turn to be smug.

>>34525617

Dave simply stared at the table, at his cuffs, wishing he were anywhere else.

“You still have a chance to make it easier on yourself.”

“I… I… we didn’t murder anyone…”

“We have four brutally mutilated corpses that say otherwise.”

“Not to mention the one we found later in a shallow grave,” chimed Browning.

“It… it… wasn’t murder…”

“What would you call gunning an old man down in the street, then?”

Dave gulped and stared at the table. “He was already dead…”

Pedersen looked utterly disgusted by Dave's answer. Meanwhile, Browning looked as if he was already expecting it. “Oh, these are just the murders we know about, too. I'm sure the forensic analyses of your possessions will uncover even more skeletons from your closet, if you'll excuse the expression.” The agent pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and shook one out. “For example, that jacket in your car. Who's blood is that?”

Dave put his head in his hands, overwhelmed. “That's… not… it wasn't a person…”

“Fine. Don't tell us. We'll find out soon enough.”

There was a quick knocking at the door, and a police officer poked his head into the room. “Sorry for the interruption, agents. Something has come up.”

>>34525632

“What could it possibly be?” snapped Pedersen.

“It's the ATF, they're on the line. And uh… the US Forest Service? They both want a crack at this guy.”

Grumbling to herself, Pedersen got up and followed the officer out, and Browning lit his cigarette. “Well, Mr. Pope,” he said, blowing some smoke, “It seems you're mighty popular with federal agencies all of a sudden.”

Dave groaned pitifully, still hiding his face. Browning took the seat across from him and held out his cigarette pack. “Want a smoke?”

“I don't smoke…”

“Suit yourself, because it seems you're gonna need one.” He put the pack away and blew out some more smoke. “Okay, so before my partner gets back, elucidate something for me. I get why the ATF is now after you, because of those pipe bombs in Wisconsin. But why in the world would the US Forest Service want you as well? What could you have possibly done to piss them off?”

“I’m not sure… I might have an idea… but… you… you wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

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>>34525645
>that's all for now folks
more later, progressing nicely and this casefile won't be too long hopefully

yea/nay on how things are going? things you want to see/want to see less of?

>>34525660
This is fucking military grade spicy . I want more. Pls

>>34524140
>>34524461
http://deviants-despository.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=14266
http://deviants-despository.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=14264
http://deviants-despository.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=14326

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>>34526209
>that first one
If that baby comes out with blonde hair/blue eyes then you know Peter van Pels isn't the father...

>>34526209
I'm going to need an adult

>>34524024
>>34524238
>>34526209
isn't have this thread wehraboos? isn't the most popular story about an anon and a nazi tank grill fighting ayyliens?

>>34526555
I suppose I am responsible for that one, not that I'd call it the most popular one though

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>>34526209

I will wire the artist whatever his asking price is literally right now if he does at least 2-3 more

One day you're going to realize how cringey and horrible these threads are.

Then again, maybe you won't. Some people are just cringey and horrible their entire lives.

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>>34526498

>midwife sister Margot puts a stethoscope at Anne's stomach and starts to listen very carefully
>"Kam'raden, die Rotfront und Reaktion erschossen, Marschier'n im Geist in unser'n Reihen mit"
>"Anne, when we were Westerbork, what did you do to get the commandant to make sure we weren't deported?"
>"Uhhhh..."

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>>34527371

>>34526670
And humble. JT, you're incredible. I would say it's probably a toss up with K vs W

>>34526209
>http://deviants-despository.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=14266
>>34526498
>>34527480

>principal calls early/mid-1950s Anne to school
>"Anne, why is your son singing Deutschland Erwache all the time, bullying Russian and Polish students, and constantly trying to take their seats in the classroom?"
>"Uhhh..."

>>34523251
Why was the SKS pastebin taken down?

>>34528177
I'm seeing it in the sticky just fine...

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Hey guys - sorry I haven't been as active as I usually am, work has me out a lot.

It's looking like I'll be slipping to late July for the kickstarter since I still need to get a trailer made and my programmer is out till next week. I'll be sure to keep you guys updated as I get closer.

Here's a draft sketch of one of the CGs - hopefully you guys can see what's going on.

>>34528887
you've got the bren gun, what about the lewis and the vickers? also, what are these going to be called in-universe?

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>>34523251
Next Damaged Goods when?

>>34529387
Wait a second now, I'm seeing acts of impurity about to be comitted. C-clothes back o-on pls

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>>34529387
I'm getting back to my old roots, AKA sleep deprived writing. I know I'm a piece of shit and havent posted in several weeks, but I made a promise to finish out the story and I'm going to keep that promise damn it. Chapter 5 is coming along, and like i said earlier, i will probably be posting in smaller 3-5 post updates. I need to stop writing for the moment though, as I need to get up in roughly 4 hours for work...

>>34529387
IN FUCKING DECENT, GREEN EYED BRUNETTE WAIFUS MUST BE PROTECTED, DELET THIS!

This has been a pre-recorded message.

Tanks soon maybe?

>>34529514
>>34529880
Both of you shut your mouths. Anna gets lewded in the story, and your reaction is to basically stick your fingers in your ears and scream "LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU"
Anna gets a thick wad of LSA-consistency material injected straight into her willingly open chamber, and there's NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.

>>34529556
It's been 4 hours. Get up, sleepyhead

>>34530509
shhh, it was only implied. And it's not for everyone's eyes

>>34530562
You have to be 18 or older to post here
And since 18 is pretty old compared to the global age of consent, I'm sure it can be for everyone here

>>34530576
i'm guessing you're popular at parties

>>34530589
Parties?

>>34525645
>… the US Forest Service
lol

ATannie is up to date
>get comfy this is getting good
https://pastebin.com/iKPMYDkx

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>>34530509
>taking a post that autistic seriously
I mean, I know it's me and it's harder to tell, but come on, man.

>>34532196
>acutelesbian
into the trash it goes

>>34532594
Is that so?

>>34525660
It's getting exciting!

>>34524499
If you'd like I can make this drawing but better.

>>34532594
Dude, come on. The post itself is solid gold, especially if you've been there before and know what she's talking about.

>>34534686
Agreed; post itself is gold.

>>34533770
That would be amazing anon. I would suck your dick forever.

>>34532196
>this is so fucking important
God I hate tumblr.

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>>34526498

"Hello, I'm Peter, this is my wife, Anne, and this is my wife's son."

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>>34535953
>the true timeline is the one where the jews are getting cucked

Thinking about writing a story any tips?

>>34537359
Try write it up in short points before you start writing it all out? And try not to be repetitive

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>>34536544

lol given how much of a beta male Peter was, he'd probably would've raised a child an SS soldier fathered with Anne as his own.

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>>34537359

If you decide to base it off an existing work, reread it so you try and emulate the author's writing style and vocabulary.

I'm currently rereading Sam Watkins' Company H right now for a crossover fanfic >>34524024. I got a whole list of lines from the book I'm gonna try and incorporate into it.

>>34525660
MOR

>>34528862
Go to the actual pastebin. It says it expired or was removed.

>>34539213
I'm seeing it. Here is the direct link just in case.

https://pastebin.com/u/Balthier1234

>>34539230
Wut????? How! It's fine!!
>s p o o p y
I am using an iwanttodiephone so that may explain it

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>>34530576
Do Cockatoo's have to be 18 to post on here?

>>34529029

Funny you mention it - honestly they never really refer to it by name in the story when it comes up. Originally I was going to use something like a Breda M1930 but that design was hilariously autistic. I'll have to dig around and see which CGs have MGs as well, since that one is a tad special.

Again though, the world itself isn't as important as Conley's overall adventure in the grand scheme of things, but I think you guys will appreciate the random details I follow here and there.

>>34537797
nah, he would have supposedly died between belsen and mathausen.

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>>34539999

Beautiful quads, but I must redirect you to the scenario in >>34527480.

TL;DR Anne screwed the Westerbork commandant in exchange for her family not being deported and now has a little Reichsparteitag in her womb.

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>>34540087
>>34539999
That poor kid.
>Half Jew
>Rasied by teen mother and cuckold father
I mean... at least he'd have had a world war one veteran grandfather who fought for the german empire...

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>>34525678
>>34530732
>>34533626
>>34539187
glad it's being liked, this chapter shouldn't be too long, we'll see how well the next one is liked

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>thinking about writing a story based on this pic
>Slav Souls

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>>34541673
>A nissan 240 died for this

jokes aside, would read

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>>34540134

https://youtu.be/2TvN5lCVkRk

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>tfw trying to finish a portion for update before passing out

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>>34546782
>TFW trying to get the writing going. At all.
I guess I'll try the music I haven't listened to in a couple years. Maybe my choices aren't helping? Doesn't blend into background noise too easy like.
https://youtu.be/yjfKQaZdWmE

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I have the desire to write something, however, I'm shot for ideas. So I'm taking requests for any that may be lurking.

>>34546902
first battle of solomon

>>34546822
Going better than me by miles.

>>34546902
Prison setting, but everyone is wearing boxing gloves at all times.

>>34546902
battle royale but everyone is immortal

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>>34546902

See >>34524024 >>34526209 >>34526498 >>34527480 >>34540087 >>34540134

Make it happen

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>>34547401
My initial reaction was: "what the fuck." And then I remembered where I was.

>>34547350
>A man stands alone atop a hill.
>He stares across the land, the sun set painting the sky russet and the fields golden.
>At his feet lay eleven heads.
>They yell insults at the man.
>The man simply smiles, lighting a cigarette. Watching the sunset.

update incoming, hopefully it's not complete shit

continuing from
>>34525645

>>34547935

Almost two weeks later…

Dave was being passed around like a cheap whore, and he certainly felt the part. His nerves were frayed and he was on edge at all hours, trying his best to not incriminate himself so thoroughly as he had initially with the FBI agents. Trying his best not to incriminate Chris. He was starting to get used to staring at the ceiling of a holding cell, or the table in the center of a windowless room with a one-way mirror. Getting used to the feeling of cuffs biting into his wrists. He figured this is what the rest of his life would soon consist of.

The ATF of course wanted him put on trial for the possession and use of destructive devices. He’d made a snarky comment at their investigators, saying he was glad that it was the FBI who’d gotten him rather than the ATF, as the latter might have shot his dog. They didn’t take kindly to that.

The USFS let him know he was a suspect in several cases being investigated regarding deliberately set forest fires, including the massive blaze in Utah earlier in the year.

Local police had a crack at him. Police from other states coming around to see if they could connect him to cold cases.

Eventually, though, it was back to the friendly faces of Special Agents Pedersen and Browning of the FBI.

He wasn’t paying much attention to the questions they were asking, at least until Pedersen slammed her hand on the table.

“Are you listening, Mr. Pope?”

“Uh… yeah. All ears.”

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>>34547935

>>34547951

“Your case is very close to going to trial, as you might realize by now. You’re going to have the book thrown at you for all you’ve done. Yet you’re still holding out on us.”

“I’m not giving her up.”

Pedersen watched him for a few moments, then shook her head. “You poor lovestruck fool. Even now, too naive to see how badly you’ve been played.”

“How would you figure that?”

“You’re the one in FBI custody, not her. That’s how I’d figure it. You’re the fall guy who bears the brunt of the consequences, and will spend the rest of his life in a maximum security prison while she roams around free.”

“That’s not going to work on me.”

“Despite the charade you’ve been putting on, I realize that you’re scared out of your mind. And that you wouldn’t do this for anyone except one you loved.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that the feeling is obviously not mutual.”

“Fuck you.”

“Think about it, Pope. If she really loved you, she’d have turned herself in by now. Maybe in a bid to alleviate what’s going to happen to you. But no, instead she’s disappeared into thin air, probably has a new identity by now, maybe she’s even out of the country. While you’re going to rot in a cell. Who knows how long you’ll even last in there. You’re soft. The men in those places would like that.”

>>34547967

Dave just grimaced at her.

“We’ve tried to help you. We’ve bent over backwards to do it, to see if we could get you a plea deal. But you’ve thrown it right back in our faces. And for what? For whom? For some spoiled daddy’s princess who was only in love with your money.”

“What… wait, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“For someone who claims to love this woman, you seem to know precious little about her,” said Pedersen, flipping through a file with a smug look.

“I know enough.”

“No, obviously not. Christina Bridger is the daughter of a very wealthy family line. Bankers, lawyers, that sort. A trust fund baby. But, she got cut off from the family fortune early on. And so, for nearing a decade now, she’s jumped from relationship to relationship, drifting from place to place, living off of other people’s money. And when some of those poor saps wised up to what was going on and dared to question her motives, she knocked their teeth out, or took to their car with a baseball bat.”

Dave stared at the table, eyes wide. “Wh-why… are you telling me this…”

“Because we know all about your past as well. Your family was rather well off. Well, until they all died in a sailing accident when you were 17.”

He was silent now, but was gritting his teeth as she spoke with the most nonchalant manner.

“Drifting along by yourself for a few years. Must have been pretty lonely. She likely interpreted that as vulnerability when you first met.”

>>34547972

“That’s not true.”

“It wouldn’t be hard for it to be true, would it? A young man, suddenly all alone in the world, having come into his inheritance early after his entire family dies in a tragic boating accident…”

“Stop it.”

“And then comes along a beautiful young woman, an heiress turned black sheep, out on the street and penniless, and she finds the young man in such a vulnerable state…”

“Stop. Talking.”

“But of course the young man is naive and doesn’t see through her act as she proclaims her undying love to him and secures her own future.”

“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW HER! YOU DON’T FUCKING KNOW HER!”

Pedersen smiled. He was finally cracking. She was about to push her advantage when the door cracked open and a man stuck his head in.

“Uh… agents… sorry to interrupt.”

“What. Is it. This time.” Pedersen looked like she’d just about had her fill of interruptions from interloping agencies.

“Its…”

“Well, spit it out.”

“Homeland Security.”

>>34547981

“Oh for all that’s good and holy…” She got up with such force that she nearly knocked the chair over. “You’d think this guy was the next Timothy McVeigh, with how many people want his head on a platter…” She stormed out, accompanied by the officer. The door slammed and Browning leaned on the table. He lit up a cigarette and sat there in silence, puffing away.

“You still don’t want that smoke?”

He shook his head.

“How about some coffee then?”

“N-no… I’m fine…”

“Y’know, kid. This might be your point of no return.” He took a long drag on the cigarette and continued. “You’re not a hardened criminal. I can see that.”

Dave was silent.

“I'll stress again and again, we can't help you unless you help us.”

More silence. Browning dragged on the cigarette, thinking.

“All these people taking an interest in your case, I'm sure they want to see you crucified. Or at least put on Death Row,” Browning said, sitting down in the chair. “That's not my aim. My partner, she wants a case closure. She wants a commendation. Me? I’m too old to care about that shit. I just want to keep more people from getting hurt. And the longer your girlfriend evades authorities, the higher the chance that she kills someone else. And that someone could very well be herself.”

>>34547990

“She wouldn't kill herself…”

“Probably not. But her actions could result in her own death. If she went after another person and they're armed, and are quicker on the draw. Or she gets in a shootout with police and takes a bullet. Her blood would be on your hands.”

“She… she's not the type… to…”

“She very well might not be. But do you want to risk losing her forever? After all, you know her temper better than most.”

“I… I can't… I…” Dave's voice was cracking, and Browning kept pushing.

“You don't want to betray her, I get that. But it's not betrayal if it's to keep her alive. She might not understand it, but you would. Because you love her, right?”

“I do… I do…”

“Then do the right thing, kid. Help us.” The agent patted him on the shoulder in a fatherly way.

Dave looked like he was about to break down, so the agent let him regain his composure before speaking again.

“How about it, son?”

There was a knock at the door before Dave could answer. Browning got up and opened it. There was a woman on the other side, but she was not Agent Pedersen.

>>34548008

This woman was of a caramel complexion with shoulder-length raven black hair. She was dressed in a well-fitted black pantsuit with a crisp white shirt underneath. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of reflective aviators, but her expression was stern. To Dave, she looked like the very definition of a government spook.

“Can I help you?” asked the agent to the newcomer. Browning was a big guy, but she seemed to intimidate him.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, you can help me, Special Agent Browning.” She produced a badge from an inner pocket and handed it to him. He looked it over.

“Ah… so you’re the one from HomeSec. How is it I can help you?”

“You can start by leaving the room so I can speak to the detainee. We’re taking over this investigation. You’re off the case.”

Browning seemed to consider this for a few moments, before handing the woman back her badge. He sighed heavily. “I see. Well, I know my partner won’t take this well.”

“That’s for you to deal with.”

“Mhm. I’m assuming you’ll want our case files?”

“Every last one.”

Browning gave another heavy sigh. “Well, I should’ve guessed this. I’ll get on the paperwork.”

“Yes, do that.” She waited until Browning closed the door behind him before taking the seat in front of Dave. He looked back at her with apprehension, not really sure what to expect.

>>34548017

“Hello, Dave,” she said, projecting a steely gaze even behind the aviators.

“Uh… hi…”

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble, haven’t you?”

“I… I guess I have… am I considered a terrorist now or something?”

The spook almost smirked, but her face instantly returned to the hard expression. “Not quite. You’ll be coming with me. We have some items to discuss.” She produced a small key and reached over the table to unlock his Dave’s handcuffs.

He rubbed his wrists, looking thoroughly confused at the development. “What… am I free to go or something?”

She ignored the question and stood up. “Come with me.”

She lead Dave out of the room and down through the halls of the police station. They received odd looks from those they passed, but if any even appeared to have thoughts of stopping them and asking questions, the spook flashed her badge and sent them on their way.

They stopped in front of the elevator, and the woman pressed the call button. “I’ve got a car down below in the garage waiting for us.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“All in due time.”

>>34548032

There was some shouting down the hall, and Dave turned to see Pedersen storming towards them.

“Hey! You! Where the hell are you going with my suspect?”

The spook stepped between him and the fuming FBI agent. “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

“I feel I have a good god damned need to know why some MIB-type bitch gets to bump me off of an investigation that I’ve spent months building the case for! Lining up the paperwork, getting the warrants, dealing with all the bureaucratic bullshit just to nail this fucker. What right do you have?”

The spook took a step forward, getting into the agent’s face. Pedersen took a step back.

“Special Agent Pedersen, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear this little rant of yours. But you had best unfuck yourself and start acting like a Federal Agent and not a petulant little girl with shit for brains. That is if you still want to have a career with the Bureau.”

Browning quickly came up behind his partner. He put his arm around her shoulders and started pulling her back. “Regina, come on. Come with me. This is not a good way to handle this.”

>>34548043

“This is bullshit!”

“Be that as it may, you know that what the spooks want, the spooks get.” He turned his head to the spook in question. “Sorry about this. I’ll have those case files sent over to you.”

“Appreciated.” The elevator pinged and she herded Dave forward inside when the doors opened.

Not a word was spoken as Dave was ushered about, down to a black SUV with black tinted windows. The spook opened the rear passenger side door for Dave. “After you,” she said. Hesitantly, he stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him. Then she climbed up into the front passenger’s seat. “Let’s head out,” she said to the driver, who started up the engine and pulled the vehicle out onto street level.

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>>34548056
>that's all for now
>did you rike it?
>comments, criticisms, suggestions pls

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>>34548071
I feel like he would have recognized Chris, so this must be a paranormal investigations spook.

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>>34547446
>where I was

A magi/k/al place

>>34548100
Chris is a redhead. And deals with spaghetti, and not spooky

>>34548071
I want know where this is going damnit

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>>34529387

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>>34548100
>>34548505
all in due time

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The child translates, and Irma replies

‘She says she recognizes you. And she mentioned Elephants’
“Of course she did. What does she want from me?”

Hugo asks a short question and the woman babbles on in german for quite a bit

‘The Lady says she was very reluctant to speak with you. But it was necessary. But she wants to know what you think first’
“I think she left me for dead in a car park”

A moment later, and the child speaks again

‘Irma claims the girl you call Lily was the one that put the knife in you’

The child was visibly nervous, standing between two armed adults who were clearly not happy with each other

“And Irma was completely uninvolved in that?”

After a short discussion with the tall German, the child speaks again

‘P-please mister, these are her words, not mine’
“Yeah, yeah, hit me”
‘She claims… both you and her knows Lily would have killed you if she wanted’

As irritating as it was, they were right. Lily could be exceptionally dangerous. And the fact the knife went so far in without actually harming anything vital was probably very well calculated

“She wanted to gain your trust?”
‘Not hers. She suggested the knife over a… g-gun because she knew Lily would make sure you would live’
“Quite a gamble, with someone else's life”
“She claims she is unhappy about having to make that call”
“No wait, I'm sorry, did my chest hurt your knife?”
‘She says there is little time for wit’
“Yeah, get to the point. I'm getting pissed and cold”

The woman sighs heavily and utters a short sentence. It had an uneasy weight to it. The first word was “Lily”, even if it sounded much more like “Lili” when she said it. The last word was troubling. You didn't know what “Zusammenbruch” meant, but it just felt… bad.

The child looked down in the ground, he must have known, or guessed that there was some strong feelings flying about

‘Lily is about to…’
“Spit it out”
‘Collapse’

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Funny how that worked. It was one thing listening to the news from somewhere else. You could shrug of many thousands of people that died somewhere else. They had no faces, no names. It could be numbers on a screen

But hearing something like this about Lily hit you like an express train.

You weren't supposed to love her anymore, for fuck’s sake.

Irma saw you standing a few meters out, stark as a pine tree defying the howling winter winds. She saw you eyes rise up from the little child and turn to her. She reacted immediately, raising her hands a little and stuttering out “Bitte, bitte, bitte”.

She saw how she just completely antagonised herself

Her speech pattern changed, sped up. You must have looked rather intimidating, even enough to affect her a little bit

‘Irma would like to remind you that she was very reluctant to see come and see you, but it is for the best’
“You're walking a thin fucking line. I have a lot of trust issues, and you are made out of red flags. Why would I trust you? She know I'm alive? What do you want me to do? Why would I?”

The little kid chatters like mad, becoming more and more scared as you spoke

‘B-because you have to, and uhm n-no and s-she wants no needs help and-’

Little Hugo had been pushed to his limit, but he was at this point so scared he ran behind Irma, sat down and started weeping. So no more of that. Irma nods and points to a big Mercedes. A clear implication she wants you to follow her.

You shake your head

“Don’t trust you”

Irma growls a little, raising her hands, suggesting you to wait

‘Halt, bitte’

She retreats back to the large sedan, digs around a little and then finding pen and paper. The tall woman furiously writes away almost a whole A4 page before returning to you. It was all in german, not that you understood any of it. But there was a series of numbers at the end of it, probably a phone number.

With a very angry face she turns around, dragging Hugo behind her. She throws him into the back seat, gets in the front herself and speeds off on a wave of tire screeching and twin turbocharged V8 thunder.

You're left with way more emotions than you can deal with, and an unreadable slip of paper.

Later that evening, you sit with a bowl of “soup” and a cup of coffee. You have the trusty old laptop and the note Irma gave you. Sadly, while her handwriting was exceedingly elegant, it was a touch hard to read. Sentence by sentence the letter is fed into the computer, and the results tell a rather depressing story

Lily was apparently in a very bad state, much like she was when the war drew to a close. Hints to slowly losing it. She couldn't let anyone else help with the Jagdtiger. No maintenance apart from what she could do herself. Anything wearing on the tank she turned into herself. She could prevent the heavy machine breaking down, but the price she was paying was too high.

But to her, that was preferable to a dent in her pride, to letting anyone see that she was starting to fall apart.

That was however, if even half of what she was saying was true. Problem was she painted herself out to be manipulative, meaning that if she told the truth, she was not to be believed.

Which was a little paradox in and of itself.

In a normal case, trusting someone like Irma would be beyond stupid. But you had to consider what she wants. You're still alive meaning you're useful to her alive.

So why you? What did you have that some other guy who have played around with tanks for a year?

A relationship with Lily.

There wasn't much else. Connection to Natalya? Not really. She was an opportunist and loved the war more than anything else. And only reason she helped people was for them to help her kill things. To win the war

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It really did seem as she had good intentions. And if she didn't, it did appear as if she did. If it was just a game, it was well played.

If this entire show was to be taken any further, at all, you had to speak to Lily face to face. Then see her reaction.

The note also stated a phone number, when you make your mind up

Would asking for advice help the situation?

Sure Natalya would help if she think it had benefit to the war. Which is in no way a guarantee.

Evening turned into night, night to midnight, and then morning. Single digits on the clock. You had to send out a reply, had to get to Lily. Sadly, phones had become more and more scarce, harder to get hold of. And the ones that still worked had gotten more and more expensive

The sleep you get is unruly, dreams are restless. The room is cold and way too cramped.

Morning after didn’t go very well either. The one man who was willing to sell a phone wanted your AK for it. It was an early 50s one, milled receiver. It would probably have been worth quite some money when all of this was over. Well, the barrel was shot to shit, but the rest was good.

With the reluctant feeling of handing over an old friend, the AK has to go. Right now, Lily was more important. You had memorized the words that went in the message.

A date, a time and a place. And “allein” at the end

It was time to meet the hunter

Two days later you stand atop a little hill in the road. The earth was scorched black from that had raged maybe a year or two ago. It was a location picked out by someone who may or may not have been Lily. Whoever had the other phone wouldn’t say. This place made you extremely uneasy. There was miles of more on less burnt up forest edges around, and a thousand places to hide someone wanting to take a shot at you. There were even a few places to hide a massive tank destroyer

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It was midday, and you were looking pretty much straight south. the sun hung low and was shining pretty much right into your eyes. You would have very little chance of seeing anything that would try and harm you.

Someone who wanted to hurt you would have figured this out as well, which made hearing engine noises coming from straight behind you very surprising

But it was all the wrong engine sounds. This wasn’t the thundering diesel V12. This was more like… well muffled petrol V8s

Of course it had to be Tahoe’s. Six of them. Black painted and with tinted windows. There wasn’t much point in running. Sure, the little Honda would outrun these things, easily even, on any sort of road with corners on it. But the poor little thing probably didn’t have 150 horsepower. And the big Chevrolets weighed more than twice as much. And since the AK was gone…

If these guys wanted trouble, you could neither run nor fight

But of course they wanted trouble. That’s what people in Black Tahoes want. They all stopped conveniently about 30 yards out. Men in suits exit the vehicles. They all had that obvious “I am armed but i have to look professional” look. Sunglasses, a whirly cord to an earpiece.

You didn’t acknowledge them much, there wasn’t really any point. You looked at them, saw them coming, and they saw you looking at them. Feigning disinterest, you looked away, now desperate to see the Jagdtiger somewhere in the treeline

Not that that was likely

‘Good day, sir’

For one reason or another you have a massive urge to toss “sup faggot” back to him, but that would be unprofessional. But instead you turn towards the men that were now standing next to you, doing your very best to look as uninterested as possible

“Hullo?”
‘Your name is Anon-’
“God no, that’s not even a proper name” you sigh “My name is Florian Geyer”

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The man looks rather confused, but you figure they’re not in a joking mood. You sigh heavily and try to look even more tired

“I’m just being an ass. Pleased to meet you. And you guessed my name”
‘You have a last name?’
“Can’t prove i do. What about you guys? Are you all called Agent Lynch?”

You let out a slight giggle and they seem to be even more irritated than they were earlier. One of them shifts his hand up to his earpiece

‘It’s him’

Another one of the Tahoe's crawl a little closer. Two man step out. One suit and one…

“Oh look at that! The last living proof that dinosaurs still exist!”

‘The humor is that last thing that is lost’

Jake walked over, very very slowly

‘We had a deal, boy’
“Actually, i think you made a deal with Lily”
‘Bonnie and Clyde’
“Yeah yeah, how did you find me anyway?
‘It appears this phone isn’t as good as your old one. Who are you meeting anyway?’
“Oh, just a friend”
‘Who speaks German?’
“Of course not. My friend only speaks Bulgarian, what were you thinking?”

The old man looks extremely unhappy with you

“Sorry, I had Sass-flavored cereal this morning. Of course it's German, considering, you know, I wrote in German”
‘I think you should come with us’
“Shit… uhm… can any of you guys bring my car along?”

Benson looks to the man on his right, sho shakes his head side to side just a tiny bit

‘No’
“Augh… mind if I just leave a note then?”

The man in a suit repeats his movements

‘No notes’
“Just let me get my bag”
‘You don't ne-’
“No, I don't need it, but it has my clothes, and something that hold much value to me”
‘...’
“Augh. Yes, there is a gun in the car, but it's in the glove box. My bag is in the trunk. Think you can have these guys not shoot me when I get it?”
‘Just shut your mouth and hurry up’

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You did feel a little uneasy as they rummaged through your bag, and placed it in the trunk of the vehicle where you got shoved in between to suit clad men. The convoy headed away, and true to your spiteful nature, you wanted to piss them off as much as possible for ruining your day. The best option now was appearing overly friendly, leaning on one of the men and pretend to sleep.

Two days later, Natalya sat on top of the IS-3 and looked at the rising sun. The train had stopped in the middle of absolutely nowhere because of a faulty oil pump, causing a loss of hydraulic pressure. New parts had to be flown in by helicopter.

She was disturbed by the low thud of a small figure falling of the engine deck and down on the train car

¤ Miranda, you should sleep
+ N-no. i Haven’t slept a-and-
¤ Sleep
+ No!

Natalya looks back at the somewhat upset little woman. Woman? Could she even be called that?

+ It’s important!
¤ So tell me
+ Y-yeah, but…

Miranda was visible getting more and more nervous

+ But this information is very critical! I H-had to work super hard!
¤ And you want something for it? Other than putting our army at an advantage?

Miranda was anxious at the best of times, and was even weaker under pressure. Guilt tripping her is not only easy

+ Yes!

Miranda started was like an aspen leaf in the wind. And to Natalya’s great surprise, Miranda actually brought up a little slip of paper. She had not been able to have eye contact even, once and now she was looking at the paper

¤ What are you doing?

Miranda was stepping in her place in utter frustration

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¤ Are you-
+ WAIT!
¤ Uhm...
+ No, wait, sorry…. uhhh… wait
¤ God above, little one, calm down. It’s like you’re being fired at. Now let’s just take this slow and easy. What do you want for this information

No less than three times, Miranda tries to open her mouth and say something. Her face gets an increasingly deep shade of red and her breathing speeds up. She manages nothing, and throws the folded up paper into the ground and screams

+ YOU HAVE TO BE NICE TO ME !!

Natalya is left bewildered as the little woman turns and runs away as fast as her legs carry her

However, Natalya stood true to her nature, and though less about that and the note left behind

It was quite a bit of information. Miranda had done a fair bit of looking, asking and snooping around, especially using just a phone and a computer

It also meant the plans to get closer to the german forces, and thus forcing the russians to follow along was severely hampered

Natalya got her phone up, clattered away for a minute and sent a message. Since Miranda could, for some reason, not have a straight conversation with Natalya, someone else had to. The little one was instrumental in gathering information

This left Natalya alone with a cigarette in the cold morning air, wondering why Miranda had started acting so strangely the last month

She claimed she wanted to be treated nicely. Natalya didn’t feel she had been harsh on the little one

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That's all for now!

And here is the Pz II image that got lost, somehow

>>34552740
Maybe it's supposed to go here? >>34552714

>>34552851
no wait, it was there. Augh, nvm

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>>34552740
>mfw bumping
>mfw other stories
>mfw JT update

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>JT and KvW
Is it my birthday?

>>34553513
Do you actually reply to people?

>>34553598
Sometimes

>>34552740
i like it

>>34548071
I did rike it
>>34552740
Have a (you) for the update

Well, nearly 2000 more words written, my 7th book should be finished within the week I think, knock on wood. 4th in the Living amongst the Dead series, I know two fellas who want to buy it right away, and one guy is going to put it on his blog which should result in many more sales coming through. With any luck, it'll be a repeat of late April, and I'll average over $10 a day for at least a couple days. Already looking forward to getting book #8 on the go.

I figure I'll probably give LatD a break and work on other books even though the LatD books are my 'bread winners' as it were. I want to try new things. Well for one I've been thinking of making a sequel to Firearm Valhalla which has been my 4th most profitable book. I intentionally left it open to a sequel so I figure I'll read it over; fix some grammatical errors in it (for males it's blond, not blonde, I did not know this) and once I'm refreshed on the story and characters then I can pick up where they left off.

Also actively working on a compilation of erotica short stories/novelettes. Should probably think up a /k/-related one. I've got one that I think turned out not bad with someone who can essentially control space, time, thoughts, memories, and essentially everything. I guess he COULD make the world a better place, but instead just uses it to get off. Let's see... well, I suppose I could take a page from the book of /wfg/ and write a short story or novelette in which firearms are made human? It wouldn't be greentext of course, but it could be fun I think. M1911A1 is a fairly thin design, but heavy, and compared to more modern Military-sized designs is pretty small capacity... a thin but toned (muscle weighs more than fat, thus heavy in spite of being thin) woman, middle-aged at least, a scar from when she did something incredibly stupid, in spite of her strength she's an easy drunk (no capacity for alcohol tolerance), and often wears outfits that are a little complex to remove but nothing ridiculous.

>>34552740
have a (you)

>>34554442
I was thinking of this very story just a day or two ago. So fucking funny.

>>34535257
Sorry, I slept 24 hours and a 1/2. Will do that now.

>>34548043
Th-THEY'RE MAKING DAVE DISAPPEAR! IT ALL MAKES SENSE, THE OVERLY SURE SPOOKS, THE JURISDICTIONAL PISSING MATCH! IT'S A MAD HOUSE! A MAAAAAADHOOOOUUUUUSE!!!
https://youtu.be/VFCM6TZgTMI

>>34548071
Umm... This infuriates and frustrates me. Consider it a compliment, you elicited emotion in me... see>>34556783

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>>34548071
THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME!

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>>34552740
Have a (you). Though I will say in the middle, some of the undifferentiated dialogue throws me through a loop for a bit.

https://youtu.be/cAEFu7qGYKM
So uh... It's not enough to warrant the days it took, but it's what I've been going with. So, I'll start a couple paragraphs from my newest stuff and work to the fore.

"Please explain fast and in as much detail as possible."
>"Now... what if they had some information that they didn't document, but were somewhat known?"
"So they know but they don't write it down? And these would either be common knowledge that would be useless to most or would be esoteric to only some who might be concerned with such a thing, going through a few middle men who don't talk to each other to keep it a secret."
>"That's the idea. Now we have to figure out how to get it out of them."
"So we're gonna kidnap them... Jason DID do some welding in the garage, and I'm sure we could give them some convincing with some of the various welding equipment..."

5:30PM
>Looking out on the cityscape before him, even more decayed than usual the past couple months, Enrique was displeased, but soon, at least he'd be going home to his girlfriend rather than staying at this cheap hotel in god damned florida, nowhere near a coastline, or a land route from mexico.
>This wasn't his job.
>Something about today just seemed endlessly negative. He couldn't tell, but if he or his contact said a word to each other today, something told him they'd both forego professional courtesy in favor of violence.
>Whatever it was that filled the air around him, he couldn't place it, and really felt no benefit would come from naming this sense of ennui, though he felt some kind of tension in the air. Like someone was watching him with infinite malice. Maybe he was just crazy. Surely they hadn't caught an EMBEDDED agent, who's taken so many precautions to avoid this, and the only way someone could have proved his activities is if they had some extreme NSA level tracking capabilities with either easily provable illegal operation in the US or cooperation with the federal blackmail institute.
>"It's just another quiet day in country and I'm going home next weE-"

>>34557014
>A cracking sound followed by a maelstrom of angry voices and a few dull cracks low in tone communicated the fact that someone was raiding the hotel room on the second floor, having rendered his associate almost immediately incapacitated.
>Enrique made his attempt to jump from the balcony, a burst of cracks coming from behind him just as he started the impulse to leap off the balcony and begin his attempt to run.
>He looked lower than he'd already been to see his left forearm's internal structures become external, his carpal tunnel, radius and ulna being bared before his eyes as the structure of the arm lost most of its rigidity, yielding beneath him and dropping him first onto the bottom on his collar bone and then slamming his chin into the the concrete barrier of the balcony, chipping a couple teeth.
>Enrique looked at the noodle like remains of his left arm, blood and tissue having ejected, spraying onto his side, the barrier he was attempting to jump and over the edge into the parking lot, most likely meaning that if anyone investigated it, some poor fucker was going to have his car impounded as evidence, or he'd be lucky enough to drive away and wash it off, making no news of it, and get away free of scathing. But he was getting ahead of himself, since as of two point three seconds prior, Enrique's forearm was disintegrated from three shots placed in his wrist, middle anterior forearm, and just below the elbow, whoever was raiding had no intention of talking things out, and there was someone in a black mask, body armor and pale white skin running at him, rifle butt cocked and wound up for a swift strike at his skull.
>The next thing Enrique perceived was himself being thrown into the back of an SUV, restrained, with a great deal of pressure on his left bicep and a black bag over his head.

>>34557026
7:12 PM.
"Bring him in here." Marina ordered in a cold voice, which she knew made her sound impressively Russian, cold and merciless.
>The mexican man was sat in a chair, his restrained arms briefly unrestrained to allow him to be tether to it, his associate tossed in the corner, blood staining him from a now empty and fully drained arm, which would almost certainly require amputation, assuming he lived long enough to receive something resembling medical attention, rather than having a gangrenous infection spread to his organs.
>The black bag came off the first subject, his battered head hurting somewhat less than the ballistic trauma in his shoulder, disintegrated shoulder socket, and broken ribs from being beaten senseless before being black bagged.
"Step out of the room. You hear nothing that goes on in here." Came this man's new sound of terror.
>He waited while multiple clicks echoed from the inside of the building, fans and some electronic device whirring to life with distinctive low and high pitched hums.
>"Where am I?!" The man pleaded before a fist from nowhere swiped into and followed through, glancing off his skull, succeeded by the icy voice.
"I'll ask the questions, mestizo shitbag."
>"Hey, what do you have against my people? I got rights, pig! This is an-" Another fist slammed against his skull.
"You don't speak unless asked. You have NO rights here. I am not some police department janitor with any obligation to ask questions nicely and give you ice cream afterwards. Now we're going to start, and until then, you remain quiet. Am I understood?"
>"Yeah!" He answered exasperatedly before beginning on a blue streak cursed out under his breath in spanish.
>The black bag was lifted from his head, his eyes greeted by no less than a bright work light glaring, which he hadn't perceived in its full magnitude under the hood.
>His face rook a full wince at the unpleasant brightness of the light, which seemed so intense as to shine through his eyelids.

>>34557043
"Lets start with your name. Given name only."
>"Jaun."
"And you work for the Huerta cartel?"
>"Who are you? Russian intelligence? Interpol?" Juan asked, prompting Marina to grimace at this particular waste of organs and his stupidity.
"Lets go back to the beginning. Not only would none of these agencies be permitted to operate in the united states, I am not a cop, you have no rights here, and next time you ask a stupid question, I'll get the protective gear and go to work on you with the clamps and electrodes. Now, unless you want to see me in the leather coat, gloves and helmet, or ask about some other group sho can't save you, We'll move right on to whether you and your associate work for the Huerta cartel."
>"I work for the Huerta cartel, yes. I organize drug shipments, and various other smuggling related things for them."
"Oh? Well, Juan, you've peaked my interest." Marina said, donning a tan leather Jacket a few sizes large for her, taking her time to button it. "Now, you see, Juan, I have an interest, if you would be so kind as to help me out, with the smuggling of Humans."
>"Well, I'm not INTIMATELY familiar with that, but I'll answer anything I can about it. But I want medical attention. Waddya say, gringa?"
"Alright, something for something. You give me this information, and we'll patch you up before releasing you into the woods outside a town." Marina offered as she walked past the work light in the shed, now wearing a jacket, a welding visor, and putting on a pair of welding gloves.
>"What's with the get up?"
"I ask the questions, remember?" She asked, pulling a few electrodes from a cylindrical oven.
"Do you know what these are?" She asked, pointing the electrodes accusingly at him.
>"No."
"They're electrodes. For arc welding. Do you think an electrode would arc on a human body?"
>"I don't know, but I don't want to find out." He chuckled out nervously, continuing, "But I believe you wanted to know about Human trafficking."

>>34557063
"Good boy. So, I want to know about smuggling humans out."
>"I don't know how they do that, I only help them get in."
"That's not good enough." Marina said, clipping the electrode into the holder and slowly moving it toward the man.
>"No! PLEASE, NO!-YAAAAMZZZSHZZZZSHZHZZ" Came from the man's mouth as he was zapped with about a hundred and ten amps of electricity for two seconds.
>Marina waited for the man to recover from the electrocution, which he didn't, instead sputtering to death, and turning dormant.
"Guards, come get this asshat out of here." Marina called, murmering under her breath "So, I guess it WON'T arc on a human body."
>While Marina went about putting that electrode away and turning off the welder, reaching now for a set of tanks which held a cutting torch, two of her specialists dragged out the man who'd been in the chair, throwing him into the trunk before coming back and setting her next victim up. By the time they'd finished, she'd turned the valves and was just about ready to start cutting, be it metal or people.
"Name."
>"Enrique, I specialize in human trafficking, I'll tell you anything, PLEASE!"
"Ok. Lets talk, then." Marina said coldly, removing the bag from Enrique's head.
"I have an interest in someone who's been taken out of the country, possibly as a prisoner. Answer me and you'll get antibiotics and a sling before we release you just outside a city."
>"Look, I can't say I know all the specifics, but, We've been smuggling people out occasionally. Aside from the occasional street gang guys, we've had one notable case, and I don't think the gangs would be the culprit, scooping my associate and I up like that, since they're all standing with their tails between their legs. I'm guessing You're after a white guy, right? went missing around two months ago?"
"It sounds like I've heard of this guy, but then again I'm not sure, keep talking and maybe I won't test the effects of an oxy acetyline cutting torch on a human body today."

>>34557114
>"Blonde hair, blue eyes, from what I was told, he was trying to kill a woman of high rank in the cartel when he was captured in the warehouse district."
"Yeah, I'm interested. Go on."
>"I made arrangements for him to be smuggled out of the country to our interrogators in la paz, though I don't know what happens to him beyond that. He gets held and interrogated. If you want more about him, I can't help you, you'd have to ask someone over there, not that you could miss the building where the interrogations happen, it's the only fortified warehouse in town."
"Always with the warehouses. Fuck, La Paz, warehouse. I'll be back.
>Marina left the shed, returning after verifying the location of the warehouse.
"So, what reason do I have to trust that you aren't putting us on?"
>"We fly them into La Paz. If there's anyone who'd be taken to THOSE interrogators, there's only a few good possibilities. Either he'd end up in a ditch on the side of the road, he'd still be there, or in the middle, he might have been taken to Victoria De La Rios' private island, rumor has it she ordered the guy to be taken to her in two weeks."
"An island?"
>"Yes, she has an island off the coast of Mexico somewhere, but I don't know where beyond it being in the south west."
"You've been very helpful, Enrique. Guards!"
>The guards came in and stood to attention.
"Take him and release him in the forest near a city. Not this city. You." Marina said, pointing to the man on the left before continuing. "Have your phone ready for further instructions."
>The guards unrestrained Enrique, taking him to the trunk of the SUV while Marina wrote a note and handed it to one of the men. It read "Bury both of them, burn this note."

>>34557122
Seven Days Prior.
>The neighborhood watch gathered, waiting as they set around a fire and many questioned just what issue they could take at following Marina after all her work, shared mutually with them, and the now missing Jason, who'd not been seen in months... Could they really raise any legitimate concern over her planning? They seemed to be so perfect for each other, even if Jason was something of a gregarious introvert, while Marina was fairly timid at times, for little apparent reason.
>More importantly, in the minds of about half the watch, was why, on this evening, had she called them? Would she have a good reason? If she did, would they bother to respond to it? Or go back inside?
>Marina approached, her face starkly contrasted to her timidity in normal situations, indicating to all around that something was occurring, or she was intent on making something occur.
>"What's going on?" a voice echoed past the crowd.
"I need volunteers for something a bit more extreme than we've done before." She answered, continuing on to say, "A rescue operation for Jason, who I have reason to believe is still alive from some information we got out of a couple human traffickers."
>Many from the crowd began to raise their hands to volunteer, beginning to voice their support before Marina's hand went up and so did her voice.
"WAIT A MINUTE." She commanded firmly, eliciting obedience from the crowd. "Like everything so far, there's a catch, and unlike anything HE planned, or even I planned in the past, this one has a very substantial one. This isn't a simple drive out at night with a return scheduled before dawn, like many of our previous attacks. This is going to be long, potentially on the order of weeks, it isn't planned out yet, but we're planning a raid on a prison.-"
>"WHAT? ARE YOU INSANE?!" came a voice from the crowd.
"No, I'm not."

>>34557135
>"So let me get this straight, Jason's in prison, the raid to get him out is going to take weeks, and even then, we don't KNOW he's still alive, but rather have information that he MAY be alive, the probability of which grows seems, given the situation, to grow lesser every day, meanwhile we'd also be reliant on information from the enemy to assume he's alive. Am I missing anything here?"
"Yes, all that, and it's in another country, with the possibility that there's TWO probable locations for him that aren't a ditch on the side of the road somewhere, we can't fly in country due to the fact that we need our weapons, and it's pretty deep in. We'd need to cross through country trails, avoiding several state border stations, a national border, and then we'd have to drive on deep into mexico. Basically, we'd have to get into arizona, cross the border near Yuma but not on a road with a checkpoint, and with all this, which would take several days of driving, avoiding any security measures on state and national boundaries, then we'd have to run basically to the southernmost threshold of the baja California peninsula, under somewhat elevated radiation levels, THEN we'd have to raid the prison, and do it all again on the way back. This of course assumes we find him there, if not, we'd have to go part way back to the border, and drive our way down to the coast, somehow getting ourselves across a stretch of ocean to an island that our target that night keeps to herself, since we've gleaned that she might have had him sent here. This is all subject to change as new information becomes available, of course, the island could be a longer or shorter extension than I think."
>"Damn. I didn't think it was that bad. So... cross country two ways, potentially crossing two countries while passing through borders with hidden hardware and an invasion of a foreign country with intent to wreak havoc within?"

>>34557141
"Yes. I still need some time to plan out a route that avoids inspection stations and doesn't take us into the California wastes."
>"Well, I have ONE further question to consider before I volunteer. Is this plausible?"
"Challenging, but once I've got a route planned, yes."
>"Then I'll do it." The first volunteer stated, before about half the crowd volunteered, the other twenty left, before ten of them were to be selected out for team size.


AAAAAAAAAND that's all folks. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think! And remember, Soylent Green is people.

https://youtu.be/6zAFA-hamZ0

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>>34557152

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>>34535257
Pass me your e-mail or social media or something so I can send you the final product.

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>>34557276
well, that was candid and quick, I applaud your following of directions.
>pic I couldn't find but wanted to include into the last post related.

>>34558294
Hang on now... i think i recognize this. Isn't this the same guy who had done a lot of mad stuff?

Construct you alive

>>34558336
Yes it is.

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>>34558652
In the physical sense.

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>>34548505
>>34553983
>>34556783
>>34556805
>>34556813
so it doesn't seem like i'm overstepping the story's bounds then? okay, thats good, thanks

>>34559919
>pic related

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>>34557152
HA! HA! TIME TO OPERATE!

>>34560608
funny thing is, this guy looks fucking DEAD ON like a dude I met because my dad knows him, who happens to be army SF. Cool dude.

>>34540134
Cases like that tend to be like Samuel Hoidel, one of the zodiac killer suspects.

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>>34562155
https://youtu.be/tsfnuyyjaB0
Bump

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>>34559919

>>34554642
Fucking finished.

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So I bought my first AR today! What's everyone else up to?
>Inb4 the picture gets turned the wrong fucking way

>>34562562
To prevent pictures ending up retarded, I "edit, size decrease, save as" each time. Then it's flipped the right way. Also, congrats on your new gun!

I'm getting ready for work and helping an anon with some wordplay on his story.

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>>34562562
day rythm is wonky because night work and my addiction has been taken away from me, so mood isn' the best...

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>>34562619
Addiction? Please tell me you aren't on some kind of rat poison stimulants.

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>>34562619
Damn, that sucks. I know that night shift feel though. I work three shifts midnight to noon on weekends, then they switch me over to first shift during the week. My sleep schedule's all fucked up.

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>>34562685
no. Its like, a person. That i cant see, even if i want to. Fuck's sake

>>34562705
>mfw working 18:00-03:15

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>>34562719
ah... I feel you... somewhat.

>>34563770
>>34551068
Any more like this?

>>34562347
This is pretty fucking funny as well. What about Mauser, Lee Enfield, and Berthier? Just a thought. Cheers! Getting well drunk!

>>34524499
Honestly, the human interaction is unreaistic and your writing style kinda fails to draw you into the story. Writingstyle wise I'd try to copy from the malazan book of the fallen series. Human behaviour wise, I dont know but trust me if youre dying youre afraid as fuck of dying but definatly not said.

>>34565101
>Human behaviour wise, I dont know but trust me if youre dying youre afraid as fuck of dying but definatly not said

Yes and no. Death at what speed. You're not gonna be afraid for a plane falling down in your head, because you're never going to think about it. It you have a diagnosed disease or something similar, then yes. You come to terms with it, over time. Some days you might not even think about it at all, if you sort of can't see it on yourself, physically.

But it will always be there. Like a little stone in your shoe during a long March. You will know it, you will hate it. But afraid? Mostly at night, if you have no one around. Then yes, you will be afraid.

>>34565101
>Writingstyle wise I'd try to copy from the malazan book of the fallen series
Does that have good combat scenes? Perhaps I will aim to make her more frightened than sad, that is a good idea as I really didn't want her death to be "triumphant" in any way, it was meant to really tear her down and have her without really any dignity (hence why it's her getting killed off in a side mission).

>your writing style kinda fails to draw you into the story
Can you elaborate? Okay if not I am just curious what specifically I should aim to improve on. Sometimes I feel like it is too "formal" and I don't work with words in unconventional ways like a lot of writers do. I don't know maybe that's just me, I get frustrated with it a lot because I know it's bad but I can't figure out how to fix it.

>>34566301
>>34566049

Puh, as youre writing what I presume is military sci fi, Id try to get a picture of what war is like from a soldiers perspective. What Steven Erikson the author of the malazan series did was, he created a Scenario in a fictional world and then placed charecters in this world. Most of the encounters were played with a table top ruleset. Thats why the books are really entertaining to read compared to most other fantasy novels. Theres no predictability. Regarding the style, youre writing in a discribing sort of fashion, like youre watching the stuff on a screen. Also youre constantly switching the view, allas youre discribing the scenery, then his Vision gets blurry, back to describing. Keep a certein perspective for a while. Wait a sec.

>>34566564
Bring in more perceptions of the character from whose perspective youre writing, hows his breathing, what does he feel like fear, but dont write hes afraid, write how theres a preassure in his chest his throat is sour .......

>>34566625
>>34566564
Alright that's solid advice, thanks. I tried to keep it from Myron's perspective seeing as he's not the one dying, but I guess I didn't do a very good job :P

That's cool that those stories were played out in a wargame, though. That'd make it unpredictable for sure.

>>34564048
masuer, enfield and berthier probably view eachother among racial lines the way aryans anglos and whoever the berthier is view eachother at the turn of the century... Contemptuously. Or they view they along larger ethnic lines from today, loathing the paths their countries a
have taken and coming to a semi respectful relationship... or their owners... well, the owners would be boomers mostly, since they bought up all the surplus.
>We could have safe countries, BUT THAI FOOD IS MORE IMPORTANT!
That sort of thing for the most part. The younger collectors will probably be sperging out over the usual shit, enfield fags calling mauser fags wehraboos because the mauser has a stronger and lighter action than the enfield, mauser fags will call enfield fags special snowflakes because the enfields require more effort than an FAL when it comes to going down the rabit hole for repairs due to the needs of special knowledge and tools holy enough to turn a screw on one... I don't fucking know about berthier, never really heard of it before, but I'm I'm sure the mutual three way shitting street will form over some cock on open bullshit like it always does.

>>34567521
My drunking shall not be limited, BITCH! Fuck Islam!

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>>34569397
Drinking limited? The only limit on drinking should be the ones you place on yourself if any at all. But what did Islam have to do with my post? Ah, fuck it. we must secure the existence of our alcohol and a future for hard liquor.

God dammit, remixing the fourteen words is fun... and a little too easy...

>>34570625
Fuck! I cut myself on the edge.

>>34571597
Fun fact: Thats a PG-7VL warhead in the pic, with 500mm+ penetration. It can disable an Abrams from the side. Alas, it seems it is missing the fuze.
Bump.

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>>34526555
>wehraboos
top kek over here boys

>>34566827
Its not that bad, I just definatly wouldnt pay for it. And kinda try to imagine the world as a proactive environmet, these books or movies, where the heros side is kinda always has the initiative and they run through it like a video game from station to station, where character development takes place really is really boring in my opinion. And include the characters limited knowledge, a infantry soldier or even special forces guy doesnt see the big picture, the overall development, a staff officer in logistics does.

>>34526555
can ich haben der link to der story, bitte

>>34571654
Read page 25-27 in the preview, youll get what I mean.
https://www.amazon.com/Gardens-Moon-Malazan-Book-Fallen/dp/0765348780/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1500276910&sr=8-1&keywords=gardens+of+the+moon

>>34571660
it's in the sticky under JTfag, the story of Jagdtiger 331. it's a very long work and still going

>>34557152
Somewhere, time indeterminate. Objects and time frame conflicting.
>I set out today for a new place, only a new darkness finding me in my home.
>I drive along the country roads through a rural town on my way out, the town isn't much bigger than Sattley, a town I once saw many years before in my youth.
>I'm talking on the phone, which I have on speaker phone in the old '02 Saturn Vue, a car with a semi responsive V6 engine, and a rough set of suspension, which just as I remembered, had a tendency to toss me around inside, not that the brand new truck that would take its place was all that much better in that regard, Having a V6 3.5 liter engine, which required a bit more of a push on the pedal to start accelerating, and with suspension that still relayed all the same shock into the cabin, but only slightly more dulled them. Really the only difference was that the truck MAY have gotten better mileage, sat higher from the road, and rather than coughing until it caught in a level start to idle, tended to start with either just the right amount of starter, coughing until it let out only a mild growl as it came to life, or in response to too much or too little, coughing for about a second and a half before a sharp and aggressive growl emanated from the engine compartment.
>The sunset behind me had grown orange and shadows black in the glare of the orange sunlight. As I bumped on down the country road, contently going at a too slow for comfort twenty five miles per hour, I noticed something seemed to be... off.
>The orange light began to expand, and so did the shadows as black as tar.
>In mere seconds I'd let off the pedal, allowing the car to slow to less than fifteen miles per hour, as the light began to fade.
>In no time at all, the sunset had gone from daylight with orange glare to dusk with about no light out. I couldn't see the area of the headlights once they'd turned on... in fact I could hardly see out of the car.

>>34572201
>I reached over to the passenger seat to grab my helmet, planting it on my head and swinging down the goggles mounted in the ball detent mount. Their intensifier tubes glowing to life with the click of the gold plated electrodes in the mount. The image in the tubes coming to sight clear and defined... and within four seconds, the gray haze had pervaded the tubes, rendering the image gray and indistinguishable in all but the center of the tubes, rendering the goggles useless as I lightly tapped the breaks to stop the car, unable to even see into the boxy cabin now as the darkness and the haze consumed me.
>My breath grows short and stagnant.
>The next thing I feel is the breath being sucked into my lungs as the darkened ceiling, brighter than that of the haze comes into focus.
>As my vision comes to me, I finally see the darkness recede. Looking around the room, there's only myself, a naked woman, her dark brown hair spilling like liquid over the bed.
>I can't stay in this room anymore, the feeling of a receding nightmare and the smell of a sweetened aroma of sweat hanging in the air, mixed with that of the sea sickened me. The feeling of dread seeping back into my mind from... somewhere.
>I slowly walked, quietly from the room, down the hall, and through the side of the main room and to the kitchen.
>Going through the medicine cabinet, I see something that catches my eye. Not a dissociative, not an opioid, but a bottle that only says, "Red Pills: Warning, may cause inner awakening, clarity of outlook."
"Fuck it. Might just take my mind off this shit." I mutter to myself.

>>34572203
>Popping the cap off the bottle, I decide to take only one of... whatever the fuck these are. Dropping one into my hand, and piling the rest back in, I threw it into my mouth, and as soon as it hit my tongue, as soon as I swallowed the pill, I was hit by great realization.
>Worlds of imagery, information, illumination and knowledge flash before my eyes, at the center of my rational mind as I'm confronted with the most forefront and central facts of my world.
>These things all merge into a great truth, molding itself, shaping itself into words, hissed through great irritation and the sharpest of surprises.
"Hey! These are Mike and Ikes!"

>>34571660
Don't fret if it looks a little wonky at first. My writing had improved significantly since I started

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>>34572201
>>34572203
>>34572207
you're a fucking treasure, man
never change

>>34523284
how is the archiving going?

>>34572555
give it a few hours, poor fella's probably asleep. We're in the same timezone give or take an hour (I think mexico is on pacific, but I know in the east there has to be at LEAST a sliver of mountain time) It's like 5:30 in the morning where I am. So latest for him is maybe 6:30AM right now.

>>34571683
>>34571654
I think I see now. I'll have to work on it and post it again later. thx.

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>>34573103

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>>34573103
Is there a purpose to that?
>pic unrelated

“Da-” a small voice whispered, but was cut off.

“Shhhhhhh…” deep patience. Young eyes looked over from where the lad knelt, brilliant blue, observant as the man trained his rifle. Resting it against the side of the tree, it was incredibly still, as was him. Steady as can be, like a statue. Like a-

BANG!

The lad jumped, mind having been wandering to the point that he’d not been thinking that the rifle was to go off at any moment. Recovering from his brief shock, he looked ahead to the moose, the one he was about to ask his father about. It was down on the ground.

“Ha ha ha! That’s the stuff!” His dad announced boisterously, patting his son smartly on the shoulder, and it brought a grin to him. They would eat well. The two soon bridged the gap between them and the beast, coming to the animal that lay on the ground. It wasn’t moving, but its eyes were; looking at the two weakly though seemingly unable to move a finger, or a hoof in this case perhaps. A female moose, not quite fully grown but close. It didn’t matter its gender now though; there were no laws. Only survival.

“Stay back, Brian…” the bearded fellow warned, right hand held out with palm facing the boy. It was still alive; couldn’t risk a stray kick to the head if it started to thrash. Grasping its great snout, that huge schnozz, a large and razor-sharp hunting knife was pulled from its fake-leather sheath, and so was jabbed into its neck, slicing down. It twitched, a leg kicked, and blood poured like a small waterfall. The lad had seen it done before, but none the less grimaced at the sight. Poor moose…

>>34575676
The fire crackled away as the two sat near it, the four legs of the moose nearby, resting on some of its flesh to keep it off the ground. A large tent was nearby barely visible in the darkness. Simple but effective. A blue tarp held up by large sticks fastened to trees with thin yellow nylon rope. Inside, several Mason jars had already been bottled using slices of moose meat taken off the legs, and what remained would be picked off to serve as meals over the next few days.

The man continued to fill up on the delicious meat, a nice break from the fish they’d been eating for the last while, and was wondering how to get more greens in their diet. So far they’ve been eating berries when they became available, however with autumn coming on which will inevitably lead to winter, they’ll definitely need the vitamins of fruits and/or vegetables to keep strong. Wiping greasy fingers on his jeans, the hand then reached over casually and touched the wooden stock of his rifle, a subconscious motion to make sure it was nearby in case something should come and interrupt the quiet evening. He looked over to his son, and seen him staring down into the fire, seemingly lost in thought.

“Hey-”

“Hmm?” The lad twitched, ripped from his thoughts by his father’s deep but gentle voice; he looked to the bearded parent. The fellow looked back, seeing the bright blue eyes of his late wife in his young son.

“What are you thinking about, buddy?” He asked with a sincere smile. With every day being as challenging as it was, often stressful, he had to make sure that it wasn’t getting to his boy.

>>34573589
>Milkwalker
Kek

>>34575688
“Huh? Oh…” his meek voice gave, gaze returning to the flames. “Subnautica.” The beaded man’s cheerful look changed to confusion, brows lowering and eyes narrowing in a look of slight curiosity. Brian seen the look.

“A videogame-” The confused gaze ended, head slowly nodding in understanding. Never really was much of a gamer, but knew that back in the day, his kid was batty for the videogames. “-though I was also thinking of mom.” Ah… now there was something he could relate to.

“Mmh.” A grunt of agreement, of knowing. “I miss her too.” The man replied earnestly, gazing into the fire as well as he thought of woman, left hand reflexively sending his thumb to his ring finger, feeling the band of smooth white gold.

“Her pancakes.” The lad recalled fondly, though without a smile coming to his face. The man had a faint grin come to him in the thick and course hair of his face, as well as a laugh through his nose.

“Her lasagna.” The boy continued, appearing to sadden.

“Her toast.” The man put in, though with less of a tone of fondness and more of a tone of graveness. This brought a flicker of a smile to the kid. “How does someone screw up toast?” To this an outright giggle came. Somehow she did have a tendency to over-toast or even burn the bread she prepared for them in the morning.


“A nice, big breakfast, eh?” The man patted his thin stomach. The first couple months had been hard, lots of hunger, and both of them lost several pounds, which was a startling thing to see on a young boy, and he was proud to be able to provide for him once again. He was met with a nod, eyes wide and a lungful of breath blown out to serve as a response. They’d filled themselves up on moose, and they’d be filling up on it regularly up until whatever remained, if anything remained, went bad. The Sun was on their left as they went through the trees.

>>34575705
Before long the treeline thinned and broke, bringing them to a clearing with transmission towers going along it, lines stringing along overhead. The perfectly straight and finely cut clearing continued straight south.

“George, George, George of the Jungle!” The boy laughed up at his father. A couple weeks ago he’d joked about cutting down the lines so they could swing from tower to tower, like Spiderman or George of the Jungle.

“Watch out for that-” he began, and the man joined in for the next half.

“Bang, ‘ooo’, treeeeeee!” Gleeful laughing came from the fellow and the dad chuckled as well, glad to see his boy so happy in spite of everything. It’s hard being a parent. Harder still when forced into being a single parent, but being a single parent during the apocalypse? They had their bad days, but he liked to think he was doing well in the face of so many challenges. Still, it was be infinitely easier if he still had her…

Coming to the end of the cut in the trees, they were on a relatively high bank and the slope going down to the highway was pretty steep. It was a fairly nice view from up there, and ahead he could see the endless mass of water that was one of the Great Lakes, a beautiful sight. There in the middle of their view, a large island.

Once they were on the main road, they stopped and sat down, a well-deserved break. Early on they had to take stops far more frequently, but week by week he found that his son’s strength was improving, his endurance, and he would need it with how the world was going.

“What do you do when you find one of them?”

“Avoid it.” A robotic response, one that was well known and well-recited.

“What do you do if you think you have to fight one?”

“Find a way so that I don’t have to.”

“What do you do when you need to kill one?”

“Brain.”

>>34575719
It's very well written... but i don't get the last part

>>34576131
Thanks a lot, I'll provide more. What the father is doing is going over points that he's gone over many times with his son, Brian. So his response to that last question was quick and brief. What do you do when you need to kill one? You go for the brain. He just said 'brain' for brevity's sake.

>>34575719
>More of the book

“Good boy.” He was scraping a rock along the pavement as he gave the answers, eyes not even raising as he did so. How the boy could possibly kill one? He doubted he could. Even with a firearm, for him to be steady and calm enough in such a situation was likely impossible. Still, the skills were there. He’d gotten the kid into firearms at a young age. First, a weak airsoft gun, very cheap and manually-operated. Mostly to teach the fundamentals of safe firearm handling. Never point it at anybody. Make sure it’s unloaded, and this was taught by holding the slide of the little pistol open and tapping it on a surface so that the plastic airsoft BB would fall out. Even when empty however, NEVER point it at anyone, even though airsoft guns could be safely used against people provided they wore ear protection, especially one that weak. Some basics of accuracy were instilled but being such a cheap toy it was quite limiting. Still, it was a good start.

He’d just been advanced to proper metallic BB guns, which were more difficult to ensure were unloaded but by then he already knew how important it was to keep them such. Safely point it at the ground and pull the trigger. Someday, once he got the boy a real firearm, he’ll teach him how easy it is to ensure they’re unloaded thanks to having extractors, unlike BB and airsoft guns since their projectiles had no rims. If the kid could hit a 355ml/12oz can across the yard, then he could hit a walker in the head, well, under ideal conditions. Chances are, if ever he must actually take one out, the conditions will not be ideal. Ideal conditions would always involve not having to kill any.

>wondering if I should post a 2-3 post mini update or wait until I finish the rest of the casefile and just dump it

>>34576244
After their brief break, they continued in the direction of the Great Lake. As they got closer, the trees becoming less obstructive, a smaller island was seen just to the west of the bigger one, to their right from their perspective.

“Brian Island.” He said, pointing to the small one, and the boy grinned, shaking his head.

“Nuh uh. Dad Island.” His turn to point at the small one, then pointed at the bigger one. “Brian Island.” He gave a confident nod. Said ‘Dad’ looked at him with mock shock.

“Noooo. Dad Island.” He pointed to the big one. “Brian Island.” A suggestive tone, encouraging him to follow his own reasoning.

“Nuh uh. Brian Island.”

“Dad Island.” Both were pointing at the big one at this point, as they continued to walk.

“Brian Island.”

“Dad Island.”

“Brian Island.”

“Brian Island.” This time the father switched to his name while still pointing to the large island.

“Dad Island.” The son was still pointing to it as well, the reverse psychology having taken effect.

“Oh, thank you, how considerate.”

“Wh-, heeeey, Brian Island. BRIAN Island!” The lad’s voice began to raise because of the father’s victorious laughter, two soft hands grasping his jacket and attempting to shake the man though not having much success. He couldn’t help but laugh as well as he said the supposed name of the island too, laughingly repeating “Brian Island!”

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>>34576257
>forgot pic

>>34576258
Neither of them knew the proper names of them, but both liked to joke that they owned the islands, were the Kings of the islands, but constantly fought over who owned the biggest one. They often spoke of somehow sailing out to them, either fashioning a raft or finding a boat or something and rowing out there. A very fun and interesting idea, however neither of them knew what could be out there. Likely not much worth hunting, the father thought, though probably lots of good fishing. The mention of this was always met with a ‘Yuck!’ Both of them were getting a bit tired of fish. Well, the father was a bit tired of fish. The boy was very tired of fish. Just about every time it was brought up, he mentions how he misses Pizza Pockets.

Still, perhaps there was good land for growing crops. Maybe he could find some seeds, grow lots of healthy veggies, and perhaps every now and then when their bottles of meat ran out they could go back to land for a hunting trip. It sounded rather nice to him, and on that island they would surely be safe of the undead. If there were any there, there couldn’t be many. He was not one for traversing water, and imagined that it would take a fair while to get out there, undoubtedly exhausted from rowing by the time they did, and so would likely stay there for a few days. As such, they’d need a few days’ worth of supplies, including clean water, and probably take down their tarpaulin tent or otherwise find another tarp to make another. If there were buildings there, that’d be great, but they didn’t even know if there were any out there. Therefore; better safe than sorry.

>>34576273
Steady downwards the path went, following the wires. Much easier going downhill than uphill. Their empty backpacks betrayed their intentions; scavenging. The two continued on in the morning in mostly silence, but with smiles on their faces for the time being. Important to keep morale up, especially in times like these. Up ahead they could see the familiar sight; where the lines seemed to end. Some sort of station. Some simple industrial buildings, a myriad of strange pylon-looking things, a web of wires and lines, all of it completely unknown and foreign. It was all protected with barbed wire fencing too, not that they had any inclination to check it out. Head around the side, they walked calmly along the fence, so far no undead in sight as usual. Pleasantly peaceful morning.

The rifle jostled against his side as they went past some trees once the facility was passed, following the lines south. A pair of train tracks crossed, followed by a ditch, and then a dirt road going left and right. The lines met a couple transmission towers and also shot off left and right too which of course was coupled by a straight cut through the trees. Avoiding the construction site in the woods mere meters away, they took the dirt road right, the Sun behind them, and it turned south up ahead to go around said site.

Up ahead through the trees, the Great Lake was hidden from view. That nice advantage of elevation that had given them such a wonderful view had been stripped from them, now down amongst the woods. Peering up to the sky for a moment, it was looking quite clear, only a scattered few clouds looming overhead but bright and white; no big fat dark ones that would threaten rain. They had been traveling for what must have been a good hour by then, including the break on the highway.

>That's enough for now, let me know if more is wanted.

>>34576271
Your stuff is lit but those mini updates often get lost. I'd suggest waiting until you have a few and then get the scene for yourself?

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>>34576303
It's a comfy, but sad feeling fic. I like that it's in the Great Lakes area, as I'm originally from an area in IL along Lake Michigan.

Looking forward to more

>>34578399
Thanks muchly, anon. It really does make me feel amazing to read such positive feedback. Glad to say that the SKS is also involved in the series though can't quite remember if it's a Chinese or Russian model. In fact now that I think of it, I think it might be my first problem with continuity. I take continuity quite seriously, but I THINK it started Chinese with a spike bayonet, but in this book which I've been previewing here the bayonet is described as a blade, probably because the vast majority of my experience with the SKS is with Russian models made between 1951-54 or so. Anyways, this is the 4th in the series, there's 3 books before it, and yeah there's a lot of sad feels because... well... zombie apocalypse. Not exactly happy fun times unless you're perhaps Negan.

This one just finished being published on Kindle it would seem, available for $2.99 USD if you're in the mood to support an up-and-coming /k/-lurking self-published author.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073ZNXP9N

That's for the eBook. Paperback available as well, though it's $8.99 USD. Anyways, going to preview some more, but since it's contracted with KDP Select I can only divulge about 10% of it before I'm breaching said contract. Only halfway through page 8 or something like that though, and in theory I can go up to... what... page 13? So still got some more I can give. Honestly, this cutesy little father-n-son thing is quite different from the rest of the series. Very nitty-gritty and realistic. I'm glad I'm developing these characters well though, it would seem, based on your highly appreciated feedback. Cheers! I'll start copy/pasting more paragraphs.

>>34575676
>>34575688
>>34575705
>>34575719
>>34576244
>>34576258
>>34576273
>>34576303
>>34578868
“I think today’s going to be a nice day.” The man said softly, quietly. Brian nodded, though steadily looked ahead at the coming road, lips sealed shut. He knew it was best to be quiet around there; they were approaching buildings. Buildings were always dangerous; dad would always tell him to ‘stand guard’ outside and keep a look-out. If he seen anything, then he’d be told to try and make a bird call with a whistle, though do it out of sight, and as soon as it’s done try to creep away from the place where he’d done it. At any rate, yes it was good to be quiet, but he didn’t have to refrain from talking altogether.

Grasping the sling on his shoulder, the rifle was calmly brought to hand. His son looked up at him worriedly, to which he pursed his lips, shaking his head, eyebrows lowered on thinned eyelids while his free hand showed its palm to the fellow. ‘It’s nothing’, his body language told. Reaching near the end of the barrel, a catch on the right side of it was pulled back, and a long, pointed, cruciform bit of metal swung about until it was protruding far beyond the end of said barrel. Pushing the catch away from him, a loop rose high enough to go over the muzzle, and he allowed it to do so until it came back down on it, securing the spike alongside the firearms. Four ribs equally spaced from one another; top, bottom, left, and right. It was designed to cause a +-shaped wound, almost like a cross, thus, cruciform; crucifix. Hard to stop the bleeding for a wound like that, not that there was much need to make an undead bleed out. It would make no difference; only make it a little bit lighter really. A heartbeat is needed for there to be bleeding though.

Fucking derp, didn't mean to include the 8868 post in that...
>>34578901
Adjusting the grip on his supposedly ‘carbine-length’ rifle, his right hand came back to the bolt. A round knob on the cocking piece was pulled back, the strong firing pin spring putting lots of pressure on it, but his strong grip allowed it to safely come back, then rotate as it was put into position. It was the manual safety, and it had just been disengaged. Next, the straight handle of the bolt was grasped, and with a 90-degree turn it was clunked open. A round chambered, typical steel-cased surplus, good. He was quite certain there was 4 more beneath it in the single-stack fixed magazine. So the bolt was closed and the safety engaged once more, allowing the iron-sighted firearm with its roughly 20” barrel to be slung over shoulder once again.

There was some heft to the old M44 Carbine, a carbine-length variant of the famous M91/30 Mosin rifle, though due to the fixed bayonet it had a very similar weight in spite of the shorter barrel and stock. Speaking of stock, it was gorgeously bright. Perhaps beech wood, if he had to wager a guess, and it complimented the 1944-dated firearm beautifully. Very good condition, it was, especially considering its age. Near the year and serial number, on the bit of barrel near the receiver, was a triangle with an arrow inside of it. He suspected that maybe it meant it was considered for a scoped variant, but he really didn’t know the meaning of the markings. It was a pretty cheap rifle, and heard that the round it shot was fairly common and affordable, not to mention he was looking for a nice WWII rifle but preferably one with a less than 24” barrel so it was a bit more handy. The people on the internet that he was talking to, supposed experts in the field of Military surplus firearms, ended up almost unanimously coming to the M44.

>>34578934
He hadn’t been too crazy about the bayonet when he got the firearm, reckoning it would be a much lighter firearm without it, he’d even considered chopping the whole thing off once but now he was oh so very glad he didn’t. That bayonet was hugely handy in taking those undead freaks out from a distance. Though he liked his hunting knife and imagined it would be decent for the job, he much preferred the added distance given to him by the bayoneted firearm.

Not much ammo left though… early on he had hundreds of rounds, but much of it had been used to clear small sections of the sparsely populated coastline. There had even been that one terrifying time when he’d been accosted by a nearly-starved fellow survivor who refused to leave him and his son alone. Wielding a knife, the words that spewed from the savage man’s lips were terrifying. If he had let the guy come too close, let him get within arm’s reach to use that knife, if he hadn’t shot him, then that very knife might have ended up being used to prepare the meat of their limbs for his next few meals. He and his boy’s… the world was falling apart. The mouth surrounded by hair had drooped at the memory. For a long time, his own boy didn’t look at him the same, barely ever spoke. He’d witnessed his father murdering another man in self-defence, but it would seem the little guy was learning, seeing that it was necessary, or at least putting it out of his mind so that he didn’t even think of it.

>>34547350
Hey that's a good idea
Respawn immortal or stuck in body immortal?

>>34579074
Sounds like a waste of time lel

>>34579767
I guess unironically a hatchet wound would be the best simulation. Nothing left inside to cut dick, no lead to get in your jimmies and fuck them up for life. Though, if you're doing that, you mit as well be superfratboy, the ultimate faggot who will do anything in the name of hazing as long as he has time to say "It's totally not gay, bro, no homo."

which stories are everyone waiting for in this thread?

>>34581418
Construct, because he is the realest of Niggas

Also vampirefag and /k/vs W

>>34572507
I'm not a treasure, https://youtu.be/4zSGLXVSxWU

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just maaaaybe you get some today

>>34523284
>>34572600

>beaner
get the fuck out of my thread wet back

>>34582708
Ah, Americans only in here, right?

>>34582730
no one likes wet backs, not latinos in here

>WALL

>>34582738
aren't there tweets from The Donald you should be retweeting?

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>>34582708
>>34582738

>your thread
>ive been making threads since late october

Nah, i like it in here

>>34582766
>>>reddit

>>34582769
fuck off

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>>34582793

>>34582730
>>34582766
>>34582769
>>34582801
>Taking bait this obvious
Holy shit this is dissapointing. Stop.

>>34582738
Whelp, its been fun. But since anon said it, we have to go.

Wfg: vigorously attacking bait since it's beginning.

>>34582730
We'll just have to build a snow wall too then.

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>>34582708
>>34582738
>>34582766
>>34582793
o hai shariablue, nice bait

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>said i would write
>write exactly one line and spend two hours looking at second hand Citroëns instead

10/10 work morale

>>34582708
Well? If not out resident seamstress and archivist, who'd make and record the threads?

>>34581867
More damaged goods would indeed be nice

>>34583381
You'll get it. Just try to focus.

>>34584857
I'm trying... but ya know. Dad might have been a faggot but he didn't raise a quitter

>>34581867
>>34584857
Its... been slow going.

>>34586288
This wasn't me, but yeah, I'm not quitting.

>>34586413
...yeah that was me and I was supposed to reply to >>34585256. Guess im 2tired

Remember kids, night shift while in a relationship is a stupid idea!

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>>34586452
>Balancing Work, sleep, and relationships
Reminds me of college...

>>34586478
Imma ree soo hard because I start the exact moment she gets off work. Meaning like the only time we can meet is between 4 and 7 am

...but sleep

Hey can we pitch general world building here or should I take that shit to /tg/?

>>34586772
/tg/ is more apropiate

>>34586837

Roger Dodger.

>>34586772
What's general world building?

its that time of the thread m8s

I miss RPKwritefag

>>34588899
Dubs say we need him back