/wfg/ Writefag General-nap time

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>>34590667
Off by one

>AT and Damaged Goods in the OP
>mfw

this thread better be good, goddammit.

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update soon fellow writefags

Trying my best to push something out. No, not a kidney stone.

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I'm just going to bump the thread and try to wash these burn marks off my clothes. Hope you're a ll having good evenings, /WFG/

>>34590667
>Write a story a long while ago
>get a fairly good response
>plan a third chapter
>never finish it and the chapter just sits there on the desktop, mocking me
>mfw

Why can't I ever finish anything, /wfg/?

>>34591691
do it, faggot

>>34589977
What is 6/13?

Is this thread just starting?

I feel like contributions are worthwhile

>>34592632
Sure

>>34582808
>>>34582730
>>>34582766 (You)
>>>34582769
>>>34582801
>>Taking bait this obvious
>Holy shit this is dissapointing. Stop.
there seem to be only two ways to get any kind of response out of people: baiting and responding to baits, which one would you prefer people doing?

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updates will drop trough the day

>weather will be shit today so no normie stuff for me today

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>>34593922

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>>34593922
no, i'm sorry, but lolis shouldnt be spanked

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>>34593991
that describes to the letter how archive and i make new bins or how i have to drag the gf out of bed to get shit done

>btw she says hi

>>34594013
>the feels when an adorable loli will never chew on your sleeve
why even live?

>>34594488
>why live
i'll get back to you on that

JTfag is up to date
https://pastebin.com/w0eAjfWY

>>34594488
Biting a bad. Nibbling is okay


>>34594542
Because tanks

It's been a while, and for that I apologize.

>last time, on Recovery Room
“If you’re waiting for my wife, you’re gonna be a while. She doesn’t get out of work for another hour, it’s a 20 minute drive at minimum, and the food won’t be ready for a bit after that. I’d actually prefer if you, you know, found a place to kick back and chill.” I saw no movement from her at first, but she slowly relaxed. I decided that, with some spare time between now and when I needed to actually make the sauce, I had the time to watch an episode of MythBusters. “Feel free to sit down somewhere in the meantime.” I indicated both couches and the dining room table as I moved around her to get to the television.

To her credit, she lasted well past Adam attempting to blow up a beer keg before she broke her stance and went to sit at the table. I tried to engage her in conversation after that, but she never responded in more than a few curt words. She faced away from the wall, both arms on the table with her hands slowly turning her cap. I could see very little of her expression, but it was blank when I could see it.

>>34595491
Time clicked down until I needed to start the sauté. I left the show running as I moved back into the kitchen, grabbing a beer in the process, and turned to look at the strange girl from upstairs. She was focused intently on the rotating brim of her cap instead of me, and I knew that any further conversation would be worthless. I had seen that look too many times before.

>story continues NOW

>>34595504
The sweet sounds of Adam giggling and Jaime cackling drifted through the apartment, occasionally overriding the sizzle of the onions and mushrooms in the pan. It was only a short time before I set them aside and began on the real star: the brown gravy and mashed potatoes. I kept checking on her during my cooking, but her look never left. “You know you can ask me anything at all, right? I mean, you’ve basically been in my head for a while now.”

“It’s just...well, you’re my shooter now. I know how you think of me.” She kept eye contact with the rotating brim of her cap. “I know you think I’m just a gun. A weird gun, but still a gun, and you’re mostly right about that. I know all about what you think of me. What I don’t know is what your wife thinks of me.”

I heard every word. I understood her logic, but I still frowned. “What does my wife’s opinion of my gun have anything to do with it?” The pan was ready for the flour, so I needed my vision here. “Why worry about that so much?”

“What if she doesn’t want me? What happens when the woman you chose to be with doesn’t like that you have another girl in your life? What...what then?” Bless her, she tried to keep it hidden, but I heard that quiver in her voice.

“I see. Well, we have a bit of time before we cross that particular bridge. Wait, is that why you’re dressed for inspection? That she might get a good first impression?” The sizzling of the beef stock made a lot of noise, so I needed to almost shout to hear myself.

“Is it that obvious?”

>>34595522
“Well, now it is. Though, I don’t know how far you’ll get that way. It’s probably better than showing up in a little black dress. She’d kill me where I stand.” Setting the pan gravy to simmer, I laughed and filled up another pot with water to boil. “Come to think of it, uniform is probably your best bet in this family. I’m gonna grab some juice, did you want anything?”

“I, uh, no.”

“Do you eat, at least? If you’re gonna be my guest, I can’t be acting like a shitty host.”

She was still seated, but instead of fiddling with her cap, she was picking at her nails. “I have the ability to eat human food, but it isn’t necessary.”

“So what do you eat?” The hard part of dinner was over with, so now I just needed to wait for Duchess. What good host would deny a guest some basic introductory conversation?

“.30-06 Springfield, preferably AP ammo. I don’t ‘eat’, per se, because it’s only for use as a rifle.”

“You only eat ammo? I get that you only eat a specific caliber, but only ammo?”

“Like I mentioned earlier, I have the ability to ingest other human foods, but they literally do nothing for me. It isn’t like your body’s need for calories. Mine, my real body, needs cleaning and oiling, and my current form is more of a shift. I can exist like this, but I will always revert to the gun.”

“Well, that’s news. What about why -” The sounds of the front door unlocking made me stop mid-sentence. “Show time. You wanna introduce yourself, or should I?” As I turned back, I only saw a rifle occupying the chair that she once did. My wife opened the door, and as she made to put away her shoes, I moved the rifle off to the side corner where she could wait without being bothered.

>>34595542
“Well now, something smells good!” She shed her purse and other accessories while making her way farther in the house. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that. Cleaned a bit, talked to Mike, started dinner, and got a surprise when I was putting the meat into the oven. You?” I was already back in the kitchen and working on the gravy before I answered.

“Wait, what kind of ‘surprise’?”

“Nothing much, just a startle. Anything like that happen at work?”

“Not especially. There was this one angry bitch that couldn’t believe ‘we’ had processed her forms when she clicked the submit button, but other than fixing password problems and the occasional millennial doing taxes for the first time, nothing interesting really happened.” She came into the kitchen to give me a hug and a kiss, our returning-home ritual. “Muah. Do I have time to get changed before dinner?”

I have to admit that fixing dinner is remarkably difficult when someone is holding your arms hostage in an embrace. It’s worse when that someone knows just how to act so that your brain shuts off and you start to think with the other head. “Sure, we have some...time...to, uh, change.” I smiled at her with a wink. “In case you wanted to shower after-”

>BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

>>34595558
“Dammit!” I swore, as she giggled, “Looks like we have about twenty minutes before dinner.” Sighing, I took out the meatloaf and started on the “instant” mashed potatoes. Luckily, that only entails boiling water, so I also had the time to check the gravy. I heard the familiar noises of Duchess opening drawers full of God-knows-what and prepared the additions to the boiling water. I added a bit more, because technically we would have three people eating.

“You know, if you wanted to resume Parade Rest, now is probably your best bet. I’m shit at-” Sudden movement in my peripheral vision made me glance to where she had been, and noticed that she stood back in her previous position, facing the stairs. “...at introducing people,” I slowly finish. Shrugging, I turned back to my task.

I pulled three plates from the cupboard, cut and plated the meatloaf, then went back to plate the mashed potatoes. The mushroom and onion gravy went into an open-topped gravy boat (obviously) and then I grabbed the salad bowl. My preferred salad consists of equal parts romaine and spinach, with quartered roma tomatoes, whole green olives, shredded cheese (or feta, but that belongs in a different salad setup), and a few croutons, all topped with a bit of italian dressing. The best thing about that salad is that it takes literally two minutes to have ready, so after it was prepared and tossed, I took everything to the dinner table and set three places.

“Dinner’s ready!” I called up. When I heard her footsteps coming downstairs, I continued, “We have a guest for dinner, too.”

>>34595568
“Oh, really? Who-” and I could tell Duchess had rounded the end of the stairs and saw my wife staring straight at my gun. Confusion showed in my wife’s face, seeing another woman in her house that was nowhere to be seen earlier, and she was dressed in Class A, ready for inspection. She looked to me, then back to the mystery, and addressed me. “Oh, THIS is going to be a good explanation, Duke.”


“It’s actually a pretty simple one. She is my gun. My 1903A3, specifically. Remember when I told you that ‘it’ was a ‘she’?”

“Well, yeah! But I thought you were treating it like pilots treat their planes, or sailors and their boats!”

“Actually, Ma’am…” began the girl, but she was immediately cut off.

“YOU don’t get to talk yet.” Duchess was actually jabbing a finger at her at this point. “As far as I’m concerned, you were hiding in a closet until I went to change because you were doing shit with Duke behind my back.”

“That’s only about half right,” I commented, shifting in my seat.

“YOU better start explaining! What the hell do you mean ‘half right’? Is this some of that ‘half truth’ bullshit that you use?”

“No, actually. She was sitting on the couch when you came in. Earlier, she was sitting at the table, waiting for you to come home, and before that she was standing exactly as you see her now. She’s wanted to introduce herself for at least two hours.”

“And what’s this shit about her ‘being’ your gun? Is that some new kink that you developed?”

>>34595579
“No, honey. Just...watch.” I turned and spoke to the girl in front of us. “Can you shift, but remain standing? Not fall over and crack the tile or anything?”

She nodded an affirmative, and within the blink of an eye, was once again the rifle I knew and fixed up. One look to Duchess confirmed that her brain was stuck trying to process what just happened in front of her. The girl dressed in full military regalia was now a rifle with dark walnut finish, standing on its buttplate, facing Duchess almost as if in an inspection. Duchess looked to me questioningly, and I motioned for her to pick up the gun. So she did.

This was a point I was glad to have taught my wife how to use all of my guns, because she immediately proceeded to check and clear the bolt action. Satisfied that the chamber and magazine were empty, she continued to inspect the rest of the rifle gingerly, like it was a snake about to bite her if she moved too quickly. Completing her inspection, she once again closed the action and placed it back on the bottom, trying to stand it up. To her credit, it stayed for a few seconds before starting to lean. The rifle shifted to the girl, again in impeccable uniform, but she was leaning a bit at the shift and straightened herself. She looked in my wife’s eyes for a moment before speaking. “I hope that helps explain what I am, if not who.”

>>34595587
“It, uh, yeah. It answered, uh, some of them,” she stammered, “but you never did any of this beforehand.”
“Ladies,” I interrupted, “I hate to say it, but dinner is getting cold. And nobody likes cold gravy.” I stepped back to motion to the spread on the table, and Duchess moved around the soldier to take her place. I gestured to the other open spot directly across from Duchess for my gun to have a seat. I picked the side to Duchess’s right, and immediately poured some gravy on both the potatoes and the meatloaf.

“So,” my wife started, “since you’re obviously not a normal human, what exactly are you?” Food was passed around so that everyone had their chance to eat what they liked, and as we all readied our forks, the interrogation began.

>>34595600
That's all for now. I have to get back to taking care of some IRL,stuff. I hope I didn't neglect anyone here, if anyone was waiting for an update.

https://pastebin.com/53kxnBSU

Rate, hate, whatever, but PLEASE, give constructive criticism.

>>34595619

Hmm... maybe break up bits where people talk a little more?

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>>34595619
YES, I wholeheartedly approve of this update.

>>34595788
I don't want to be a dick, but i do want to know how you want it broken up more.

new stuff on the anon folder
https://pastebin.com/CPUdepLW

>>34595619
i like it mate

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isn't it weird that we've basically created a running waffegeist canon yet every story that includes one has to take time to explain what a geist is all over again?

>>34597122
there is no common cannon, each author runs with their cannon, i.e. PTRfag has a caste system, some authors say pistols cant have 'geist while others have them as side characters, ATannie or main like Guard and Construct

>tl:dr each author runs with their cannon

engineer anon is bined
https://pastebin.com/hFAGNDQH

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>>34594488
you MAKE the loli. She'll be called "daughter." This is why lolis are for protecting, cuddling, and headpats, but NEVER for lewd.

>>34597361
You forget your origins.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolita

Thinking of doing some writing. Airborne pirate removing sounds interesting?

>>34597456
Are you the pirate doing removing? Because that sounds fun.

>>34597469
No. Anti piracy operation from old airplane

>>34597532
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awEC-aLDzjs

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So... Everyone having a good day?

>>34598512
sort of. about to post an update, just brushing things up

>>34598237
Ah. Nvm then

>>34598609
why nevermind? just because someone's used the idea before doesn't mean nobody else can ever use it again!

>>34598533
>about to post
>an hour ago
COME ON, MAN

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>>34599084
real soon now
going to be continuing from this
>>34548056

>>34598716
Yes. But there are other things out there no one has thought about. I'll try something like that instead I guess

>>34599399
>continuing casefile 7.5

As they drove along, the spook reached into the glovebox and pulled something out. A black bag. She tossed it into the backseat, into Dave’s lap. “Do me a favor, put that on.”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m not serious? So yes, go ahead and put that on, and rest your head or something, take a nap. It's going to be a long drive.”

It was in fact a very a long drive.

Dave was thankful that the bag was clean, at least. He'd expected it to be like the movies, where it smelled of vomit, sweat, fear, and bodily excrements.

He had thoughts of taking the bag off several times, but thought better of pissing off a woman who could very likely make him disappear.

It was nightfall by the time the SUV pulled up somewhere and stopped. Dave was snoring in the back, drooling on the bag, when he was woken up by the spook tapping on his shoulder.

“We're here. Get out, but keep the bag on.” Dave climbed out of the SUV and stood still as the spook apparently gave the driver instructions to circle the block once and then return to his rally point. She then grabbed Dave by the arm and lead him inside some sort of building. He could hear the ambient humming of a cheap HVAC system, and what sounded like muffled conversations and televisions behind closed doors. He wondered, was he just being stuffed into a different sort of holding facility?

The spook led him into a room and locked the door behind them, then sat him down on a metal folding chair.

>>34599833

“Where have you brought me?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of fear.

“Take off the bag and see for yourself.”

He did so, and looked around to see a small apartment with shag carpeting and yellowed wallpaper. The place had a full complement of furniture, though it consisted almost solely of the folding sort. Aluminum tables, pelican boxes, a couple of folding cots visible in the next room.

“I… I don’t understand… what is all this? What is this place?” Dave stood up, trying to piece it all together in his head. There wasn’t much to go on.

“Don’t worry. This is a safe place. A safe house, more specifically.” The woman went over to a mini fridge tucked in a corner of the main room, and grabbed a bottle of beer from within. She put it down on the table in front of Dave.

“What's this?”

“Why do you have to phrase everything as a question? It's getting on my nerves, so cut it out.”

“Sorry…”

“Have it if you want. I understand you've had a rough time in the past couple of weeks, and I can tell you're wound up tighter than a nun’s asshole.”

Dave eyed the beer for a moment, then grabbed it and popped the cap, taking a long pull from the bottle. “Thank you.”

>>34599847

“You're welcome.” She sat down on a folding chair next to him and crossed her legs. “I understand you have questions, and I'll provide answers. So don't be so apprehensive.”

“Thanks… I'll try.” He took another swig and swallowed. “So, that little shakedown back there at the holding facility… does that mean I'm no longer looking at spending the rest of my life in prison?”

“So long as you haven't actually murdered anyone.”

“Well… I would say that I’m innocent… but I'm not so sure anyone would believe me at this point…”

“What happened in Wisconsin wasn't murder, Dave.”

“Wait, you believe me?” He turned to her, eyes wide with surprise.

“Of course I do. You and I both know the truth. Those weren't people, at least they weren't anymore when you put them down.”

Dave slumped in the chair, letting out a long sigh of relief, then laughed nervously. “So I really am innocent, then… I'm not a crazy person…” he muttered aloud to himself.

“Mhm. When someone dies and their corpse is buried, but then illegally exhumed and reanimated with a dark ritual, the resultant bloodthirsty monster doesn't retain the rights of a US citizen. Or even human rights, for that matter.”

She took her sunglasses off as she watched Dave polish off the beer and set the bottle aside.

“You really needed that didn't you?”

>>34599860

“Yeah. I… I did.” Dave leaned back in the chair and ran his hands down his face, exhaling. “Fuck… I thought my life was over. Thank you for getting me out of there miss… uh… did you ever mention your name?”

“No, I didn't. But you can call me Morrigan.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Morrigan crossed her legs the other way and folded her hands in her lap. “Do you have any other pertinent questions for me? Because I imagine that if we sat here and I answered every single question you had, we’d be here for days on end.”

Dave went quiet for a minute, still processing everything that was going on, and trying to isolate a specific question among the jumbled mess that was his thoughts. He stared at the now empty bottle of Corona, and then looked back up at Morrigan.

“If I may… ask… why exactly are you doing this for me?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the creeping suspicion that he may have simply jumped out of the oven and into the gas chamber. “What is it you want from me?”

“You look like you’re afraid to have asked that.”

“I am.”

“Well, don’t be. It’s an understandable conclusion that one might reach, that a shady government suit has just bailed you out of an impossible situation and of course there would be an expectation of a quid-pro-quo to take effect. Or that because you were hunting supernatural monsters that perhaps you’re going to be silenced.”

“Shit, silenced? I hadn’t thought of that… fuck, is that what--”

>>34599874

Morrigan held up a hand to shut him up. “No. You’re not being silenced, you’re not being tossed in some dark hole for the rest of your days so ‘the truth doesn’t get out’ or whatever nonsense Hollywood pushes. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’d like to offer you a job.”

Dave’s mouth was slightly agape. “Uh… run that by me again?”

“More specifically, a position as an ‘independent contractor’ with my organization. You see, our business is dealing with threats that could be called paranormal, supernatural, etcetera and so forth. Things that can’t be handled through conventional means. So, to keep the American public safe, we employ unconventional means. In doing so, we employ unconventional people. People like yourself and your girlfriend.”

Morrigan stood up and straightened out her pantsuit before continuing.

“As the head of Field Operations, I would like to offer you and Christina an opportunity to continue your work, with actual support. I see potential in the two of you, and I’d like to develop that potential.”

Dave took a few moments to compose himself. “Do I have a choice?” he asked, finally.

“Of course you do. You’re not being forced, you’re not being blackmailed. I hardly think any relationship would start off on a good foot if it involved coercion.”

“So the whole thing with the FBI… all essentially a giant favor to me and Chris?”

“Essentially. I see it more as tying up loose ends. The hunter you linked up with in Wisconsin, the priest?”

“Yeah, Adam.”

>>34599887

“He’s actually one of my operatives. And what happened was supposed to be a test to gauge your abilities. But, as you would very likely know from your firsthand experience, it got out of hand, and other agencies came sniffing around, sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.”

“So you’re saying this was all your fault to begin with.”

“Don’t get accusatory with me,” she asserted, her steely grey eyes boring a hole into him. “I apologize for what happened, but you’ll be coming out of this in a better position than you went in with.”

“Sure, if you don’t count my girlfriend being missing. She disappeared on the day of the raid on our apartment, and they never caught her, so she’s still out there and certainly not aware that she’s no longer being pursued.”

“We can find her. We have people who specialize in that sort of thing.”

“How long would that take?”

“Well, that’s hard to say. It would all depend on how paranoid she might be. Would you have any idea where she might go?”

Dave sighed and rubbed his forehead. “She’s… she’s pretty paranoid, actually. So I don’t think I know anywhere specific she’d go. She might have gone off the grid, into the woods somewhere.”

“Finding her could be tricky, then. But not impossible.”

“I don’t want her being out there any longer than she has to be, not knowing what's happened to me, or what will happen to her… she needs to know I’m okay, and that she’s going to be okay too…”

>>34599903

“I’ll have a team assembled to search for her. We’ll find her, Dave.”

Morrigan went over to one of the folding tables in the center of the room and opened up a small pelican case on top, pulling out a laptop and setting it beside the case. She opened it up and inserted an ID card into a slot on the side, and started tapping away at the keys.

Dave spoke up as he watched her. “Hey… maybe I can just contact her directly? I don’t know if it would work at this point, but might be worth a shot?”

“You want to try for her cell phone?”

“Yeah, she might not have it with her, maybe she might have left it in the car or in the apartment prior to the raid… but there’d be no harm in at least trying, yeah?”

Morrigan considered it for a moment, and shrugged. “I can give you a burner phone, and you can try it. Here.” She reached into one of her pockets and handed a flip phone to Dave.

“Thank you.” He dialed in Chris’s number and held the phone to his ear. It went to voicemail, so he tried again. And again. He was about to give up on the third try when he heard the line being picked up.

“Who is this?” Chris asked from the other end, her voice wrought with suspicion.

He had honestly thought that it wouldn’t work. He stammered in his reply. “Chris? Chris it’s me! It’s Dave!”

>>34599914

“Dave… oh my god…” The other end was silent for a few moments, and he thought she might have dropped the call. But she responded before long, likely having needed to regain her composure. “Are you alright? Where are you?” she asked, her voice sounding close to cracking.

“I’m alright. I’m alright. And I… I don’t really know where I am right now, but I’m-” he stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Morrigan staring at him and shaking her head.

“No details over unsecured lines,” she whispered. “Catching up can wait. Find out where she is first.”

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, sure,” he replied, still holding the phone next to his mouth.

“Dave, who’s that? Who are you talking to?”

“Shit. Uh, I can’t say right now, Chris. I need to know where you are. I’ll explain everything to you in person, alright?”

“Dave… who the fuck is that you’re talking to…”

“Please, I said I’ll explain. But right now I need to know where you are. Please, just trust me. It’s a very good explanation, I promise.”

The line went silent for another short while, and Chris gave Dave an address, then abruptly hung up.

He relayed it to Morrigan, who performed a quick online search. The address came up as a motel in Kansas.

The expression on Dave’s face was one of joy and immeasurable relief. “Okay, we have to head over there straight away. I have to see her.”

>>34599928

“Not so fast,” she said, closing the laptop. “She heard you talking to me and got suspicious, right?”

“Yeah, but... “

“It’s possible she now thinks you’ve sold her out to the authorities.”

He was almost taken aback. “If that were true, why would she have given us the address?”

“Who knows. She could be setting up a trap. Maybe she just wants to see you again one last time, believing she’ll be taken in immediately afterwards. She might just not be thinking straight, still reeling from the shock of hearing you on the line. But regardless of her reasons, it’s possible she’s going to be prone to doing something very rash, now that you’ve compromised your own situation.”

“What would you be suggesting, then?”

“That you let me go ahead with my original plan of assembling a team. They can go in and nab her, and we’ll be able to explain everything to her in a controlled, safe environment.”

“You want to give her the black bag treatment? No way! And besides, she might get hurt in the process!”

“With the people I have on hand for this sort of op, she’ll be just fine, I can assure you. And, honestly, this is much safer for all parties involved than walking in there blind or calling on the cops to handle it.”

“Fuck…” Dave paced around the room, running his hands through his hair and cursing under his breath. “I… I just want to make sure she isn’t harmed…”

Morrigan grabbed Dave’s arm, stopping him from pacing, and looked him straight in the eye. “You have my word.”

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>>34599936
that's all for tonight, this chapter's nearing conclusion, then onto the next one with spooky operating

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>Over the top, over we go.
>Rifle in hand, gaze cast to the sky.
>Will we return? Who will know?
>Struggling over the wire, we try and try and try...
>She smiles when you clean her, carry her in your hand.
>Your rifle by your side, cared for. Loved for.
>She is your friend, your lover. The key part of your band.
>You trust her with your life, as do your comrades by the score.

>The slow march towards death, met with grim determination.
>Your friends fall around you, their rifles cry out.
>The great chatter of guns, screaming their vindication.
>The noise of hell, fills a man with doubt.

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

>Walking across the fields,
>Marching down the streets.
>Heads held high,
>Banners held higher.

>The streets are choked with rubble,
>The fields are burning.
>Banners blow tattered in the wind,
>There are no marches anymore.

>This means little anymore,
>Too much lies at stake.
>Yet the banner still flies high,
>Up against that deep blue sky.

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

>As we dance this serenade,
>As we step on our friends grave,
>The world will begin to fade.
>But it's okay.
>After all,
>we are all dead and unafraid.

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

>Just like that day.
>The clouds are clear as I sit there.
>I can remember her smile, the tinkle of the sugar cube.
>She loved that place.
>I loved her.
>Time seemed to slow when I was with her.
>All the people and their chatter, it flowed around us like water to a rock.
>It felt like forever, those moments.
>Just like that day.
>The clouds are clear as I sit here.
>Rounds kick up dirt around my foxhole.
>Their crack, a distant shells boom.
>I hate this place.
>Why am I here?
>Time seems to slow as I look above the lip.
>All the guns are screaming, bullets flying all around me.
>I feel like I'll be stuck here forever.
>Just like that day.
>Maybe I'll be with her.

t. Lonely anon with too much time spent pining after a girl far too out of their reach.

They said the war would be finished by October, before Winter really set in. Once October passed, they said the same for November, on and on. It is now February, and mother nature has not been good to us. We haven't had a resupply convoy since the last big thaw in Late January. Food, Ammo, and morale is at an all time low. The only upside to our predicament is that the enemy is just as worse off as we are, I hope. I guess we're in the middle of an unofficial cease-fire. We have resorted to crude, but brutal makeshift weapons. Man has never had problems with coming up with new ways to kill eachother. I'm not quite as creative as the others, and a wedge maul is good enough for me

Talks around the fire says and old feed plant is about 5 miles ahead. Me and my friend, Ryan, decided to check it out. Anything is better than sitting around waiting for frostbite. We gathered our weapons and gear, and made for the plant. Once we got there we saw the faintest hint of purple flash by the doorway. We haven't seen the enemy in months. Time for a little action.

We moved in and decided to split up. I took upstairs while Ryan took downstairs. As I searched, I heard the faintest creak behind me. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have ducked in time to miss the saw blade whizz over my helmet. I turned to see him, his purple uniform hanging to him in rags. His face sunken in and hollow. He pulled down his pants and revealed his throbbing dick, he began rubbing it viciously. This was dangerous, so I did the same. There we were, two warriors, looking eachother in the eyes. Going to town in hopes of finishing first. Just as he started to gyrate his hips I let loose the mightiest load I had onto his face. My cum started eating away at his flesh, his screams pierced my ears as he melted into a gooey puddle on the floor. Victorious, I did up my pants and turned around to see my friend Ryan. "You really did him good" he said
"Thanks, Ryan."

such is life out here.

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>>34600300

working on a different story, don't want to burn myself out focusing on one story. Will post when first part is done

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>>34600300

>>34599947
>operation spooktacular
I like it.

>>34595619

closest thing to a complain i have is the lack of updates

Hello. This story is long and may take a few threads. It is OC.

“What's the reason we're out here again?”, thister asked.

“I dunno. Could be more of that colony bullshit, but this mineral desert barely looks habitable by microsite standards.” nidrero answered.

“Nah, its gotta be another port or something. I bet the only reason we're here is to stop the construction division from freaking out.” micer said.

Thister smiled wistfully. These days coverts seemed to get called in on the most boring shit. Colony defense or construction work sometimes looked more like night ops. So much for Trazoz’s reforms.

“We’re about to find out anyway in just a sec. Commands giving us a brief.” brocosite added.

The all pointed their M tendrils at the M-R screen and waited expectantly.
It wavered and flexed until a high officers head appeared on the screen.

Their E tendrils coiled in surprise. Usually they were greeted by a pissy low-lieutenant named jonx.

“Good day gentlemen. I am Major Virese. Don't worry, there is a good reason we called covert forces this time,” He nodded knowingly. “This is a world with very high uranium concentration, and as you can see” - he nodded to the mineral world below through the open door - “Not much else. Because of the recent discovery of truly efficient nuclear power, there is now a need for uranium rich worlds. As you all know, when there is a need for something, most sentient civilizations will fight for it. And you boys just got sent to the start of one big fight.”

“Unfortunately, there is a problem. We have detected an intelligent human on the planet. Unless moved it will be caught in the crossfire of the upcoming resource war. You have less than 10 hours to locate this human and bring it back to base. After those 10 hours, our intelligence department has determined that the area will become a warzone.

1

The team collectively raised their eyebrows. A real mission?

I am now transferring you to one of our alien biologists. She will brief you on humans biological capabilities.”

Virese’s head slowly faded. Brocosite spoke up.

“Well that’s something new, huh? We actually get to do something this time.”

Nidrero responded. “I’ve never seen a human. Didn’t their empire die or something?”

“Well, we’re about to find out, aren’t we?” replied Micer.

The screen flexed again, this time showing the head of Alien biology specialist veriam.

“First off, let’s start with basic biology that you may need to know for this operation.
Humans have no Mental tendrils or Emotion tendrils, meaning that you have to look at its “dense spot” of sensory organs to read its emotions.”

“Excuse me ma’am, but where is this dense spot?” Thister questioned.

“Here is a diagram. The dense spot is the head. None of these organs are particularly remarkable, but they all have decent capabilities. A strange trait is the fact that while they do not have more than two eyes, their entire epidermis is an organ that senses touch. The other 4 senses are all clustered in the head.”

“If they don’t have M tendrils, how are they capable of intelligent thought?” Nidero wondered.

“That's the really interesting part.” Veriam began. “They have this strange organ called the “Brain” that forms the center of the nervous system. It does everything E and M tendrils do, although Emotions are usually displayed on the face, which is the front of the head. The brain processes information gathered from the sensory organs, stores memories, thinks, runs the body… but there are two drawbacks to this system. The first is that any catastrophic damage to the head results in instant death. The second is that since they don’t have M tendrils, their mind is not capable of forming a weapon, much less defending from other mental attacks. Any questions so far?”

2

“Yes.” Micer affirmed. “How do they prepare for hand to hand combat? Are they fully dependent on technology?”

“Humans make use of adrenal glands instead of being prepared for combat at all times. Their skill in martial arts varies, but every human is at least somewhat capable of combat unless handicapped. They use kinetic weapons with explosive powder for the most part when they can, buth they are not fully dependent on them. These weapons could puncture your shield and should be treated as you would a plasmatic repeater. Humans either fight or run. When they do so and how they do so depends on the human. One last thing before we move on to history. The reason they can use adrenal glands without damaging their system permanently is that they do regenerate, albeit slowly. Most of them can heal, although major injuries require assistance. I will now transfer you to our alien historian, Dr. Jonx.”

The screen faded once again. Now Thister spoke.

“Why did a mindlet like Jonx get a position as a military historian?”

“Last time I remember, he was only concerned with our protocol history. Didn’t he say he was going to get a promotion?” Nidrero wondered.

“Maybe he bribed someone. I wouldn’t put it past him.” Micer said.

“Well, whatever he is, I’m just glad he isn’t the commander in this operation.” Brocosite added.

Jonx’s head appeared on the M-R screen.

“Hey pal. Long time no see. How did you get to be a historian?’ asked Thister.

3

“I’m not your pal, it’s only been a week, and i was finally promoted.” Jonx interjected. “Anyway, let’s get down to business. The Humans first made themselves known when they tried to colonize an already inhabited world. They were unaware that we had already taken the world. They quickly established themselves as a competent race in the council and started an empire. It was noted that millions of humans soon immigrated to their new frontier; even - in some cases - moving to other species nations. But that was all before the kraas discovered that humans had little to no ways to attack or defend with the mind.

The collapse of Dave’s empire reminded every other species the power of the mind. Its why we suddenly had a mental attack / defense division. Its why we saw elite Telekinesis troops turned out to fight in every war since then. It was very unfortunate for the humans that they were just advanced enough for intelligent thought, but not advanced enough for mental weaponry.

“The human here is probably in its adult stage. Be cautious when approaching its home, and make sure to bring it back alive.”

At this, Thister raised an E tentacle. “Probably?”

“Our instruments are very good, but they don’t tell us if the creature is adult or not. Our intel department says it should be adult for the simple reason that the younger humans are weaker and probably not as capable for survival in this environment.”

Micer looked out the open door. “You can say that again.”

“That said it could still be a larvae. Major Virese will tell you more. Over and out.” Jonx’s head faded from view.

Thister spoke again. “Over and out? What the hell does that mean?”

“No idea. Maybe a human phrase?” Nidrero pondered.

The screen trembled and shook, and Virese came through almost immediately.

“Just a few things you need to know. First off, you have much less time than was expected…”

“Micer interrupted. “How much time?”

4

“Just one more important thing. We do not know how long the human has been living here, we do not know where it is, and it is urgent that you bring back all of its important possessions. Before you can ask, those are my orders. You have 2 hours before enemy draer ships arrive. End Mental transmission.”

As Virese’s head disappeared, Brocosite chuckled. “He he. Just like command to give us last minute orders. Pilot, turn on heat signature mapping and give me an estimated time to destination. Everyone else, set weapons to stun and prepare to drop silently. Since its kinetic weaponry could wreck our shields, we need to be careful about this. Only incapacitate it mentally when there is no other option, since we could damage its mind.”

Thisters mind raced as he checked his weapon and grav harness. Why were they bringing back the humans possessions? What was a kinetic weapon? Why did command underestimate the time so badly?

The pilot broke into his thoughts. “Estimated time is 1 minute, sir.”

“Micer chuckled. “Hey, we’re finally getting some action. Thought I was getting rusty.”

There was a long silence, each of the team with their own thoughts. Then the Pilot spoke again.

“We’re there sir. The ship will run out of cloaking in five minutes, so i gotta get back to base.

Brocosite spoke. “No problem. Dropping.”

two minutes later and everyone was on the ground, making their way towards the human home.

“Nothing on infrared.” reported thister.

“Wait, then how did the pilot-” began nidrero.

“We had an approximate destination. The human may not be here right now.” said Brocosite.

“Activate personal cloaking. The human must not see us until we are sure we can corner him.” Brocosite ordered.

“Remember, we each have a minute until we run out of cloak battery, so we have to be fast.” Thister said.

“Whaaaat? Why the fuck does the cloak have a separate battery now?” Micer questioned.

5

“So certain dipshits don’t run out of shields and charge the enemy while screaming “danger zone.” Nidrero muttered.

“Hey, I was unavoidably high on brentethols.”

“Unavoidably?”

“I had to blend in.”

“Be quiet. We’re almost there.” Thister whispered.

“Why are you whispering? We have soundproofed suits.” Brocosite said.

“Shh!”

The human home had surprising defenses. The home seemed less like a S hut and more like a military outpost, with, strangely enough, walls and a sniper tower, all made out of heavily reinforced material.

Thister spoke. “Look at that human home. Walls? What’s the point?”

“That isn’t nearly enough for a sustainable farm or a storage unit, even for one human, especially considering that the human may have been here for a long time.” Micer said.

“Anything on the wallbot?” Thister asked.

“From the W-A scanner, Thister, The place looks like it has an underground complex. It also looks like this area in front of us has a motion sensor and landmines, as well as some other booby traps. Everyone switch on their W-A scanners. Nidrero, snipe the motion sensor.” Brocosite answered.

Nidrero thought for a moment as he lined up the shot. Why was a home on a lifeless mineral world so heavily defended?

Then he noticed something. “Broc, the sensor looks armored. I don’t think this is a consumer grade piece of equipment.”

Brocosite pondered this. “Damn. This means we’ll get detected. Nid, switch to an armor piercing lance. The human will doubtlessly hear the lance, so prepare to move fast and scale the walls. We each have about 20 seconds of cloak starting… now.”

Brocosite was right. The lance being fissioned gave off a very loud sound, not unlike a shuttle taking off.

They all sprinted to the wall. Their tentacles made for easy climbing, even with the smooth material the walls were made out of.

6

The area between the walls and the tower had nothing. Or, at least, that was what it looked like without the wallbot, which revealed tunnels underneath the ground leading to the walls, as well as an airlock in the entrance to the tower. The space between the wall and the tower was - again - heavily trapped.

“Place looks like it’s prepared for a chemical bombing, look at the airlocks. Considering the stuff this bunkers made out of, it could probably withstand even a minor nuke..” Micer exclaimed.

“If it is prepped for a chemical bombing, how do we get inside without smashing the airlock in?” Thister asked.

“Let me check around the back. There is usually a separate entrance to these kinds of places in case of a mixup.” Nidrero said.

Indeed, there was a back entrance, concealed and with an airlock of its own that opened automatically. They all ran out of cloak as they made it inside. The problem was that according to the wallbot, it led straight to an elevator shaft coated in slippery goo.

“I am going through. The wallbot is probably wrong.”

The problem was that it wasn’t wrong.

Thister asked a question. “Wait, if the elevator is the only way down, then why is it so heavily trapped?”

The elevator had so many traps the wallbot couldn’t see through the thing.

“We could try to go down without the elevator, but the walls are covered in a slippery goo. We would have to try to make a ladder out of us and lower the kraer down.” Brocosite said.

“Looks too deep.” Nidrero replied.

“Do any of you ever look up? Like, ever?”

Micer was hanging off a handle on the bottom of the elevator. There was a control panel on the bottom that controlled the elevator.

“Godammit Micer.”

They all grabbed the handles and started the elevator.

7

Thister spoke out. “This is most definitely not a human home. It looks like a military outpost, but why anyone would build one this strange on a world that had no point a few years prior is beyond me.”

They all nodded in unison. The rest of the ride was smooth, but as they went deeper, they started to hear strange mechanical sounds.

Brocosite recognised the sound of an old class 30-B reactor from the time he was serving aboard the Nomad III. The reactor was outdated and inefficient, replaced almost 10 years ago. Why it was in a military outpost was anyones guess.

Thister heard a machine shop in action, instantly recognizing it from his homeworld, SAR-33. It too, was outdated and clunky. Why was it in - again - a military outpost?

Nidrero tuned in and heard hundreds of computer drives, as big an information bank as the one at his old university on PRO-54. What grunt outpost needed that?

Micer heard something a bit less profound. He heard a Brewery, remembering his time as a correctional officer on CRY-12. If nothing else, the human had some sweet beer.
Then everyone remembered that they were supposed to bring back the human’s important possessions.

“That isn’t happening unless we get a freighter out here.” Nidrero pointed out. They were almost to the bottom now.

“Maybe we can have a drink while we're waiting,” Micer chuckled.

“Considering this planet is about to become a warzone in less than 2 hours, I don’t think command would appreciate that.”

“Considering you just said that we can't retrieve its possessions without a freighter, I think we have some time.”

“Good point.” Thister said. “But let’s radio them and ask when we get to the complex.”

They stepped out onto the complex 10 seconds later and stopped to chat with command.

Brocosite switched on the long distance radio. “Pluto-2, this is C-squad 3, come in Pluto-2.”

“Roger 3, we hear you loud and clear.”

8

“We were given orders to transport the human’s important possessions. We need a freighter out here.”

There was a short pause.

“3, it looks like you will be staying there for a while. The freighters are booked for the conflict ahead. The soonest freighter will drop its load and bring you back to base in 4 days, so secure a landing pad for when it arrives. Transferring you to Major Virese.”

Virese came through. “Nevermind the 2 hour time limit. The conflict will need the freighter for 4 days until we can spare one. Until then, lock down the outpost you are in and keep the human alive and its possessions unscathed.”

Micer interjected. “Virese?”

“Yes, 3?”

“The human has a brewery. May we-”

“No. Do note that Humans have a more extreme reaction to alcohol. It’s still an intoxicant for them, but to a much greater degree. Limit the human to 2 shots of 45% alcohol a day. End mental transmission.”

Micer spoke. “So that means only get drunk when command won’t notice or we’re not in danger.”

“Pretty much.” Thister replied.

“Jeez, Humans are weak. 2 shots of whiskey?” Nidrero exclaimed.

“That’s what Virese said.” Brocosite replied.

He continued. “Listen. Humans are… strange. They have weird social norms.”

“What do you mean?” Thister replied.

“I have worked with them before, and i know that they are not normal. I can’t explain, you just get used to it. I can only hope it’s an adult.”

“Why?”

Broc glowered at him in response. “Larval humans are less capable, emotionally and physically. I can only hope we don’t find a larvae because it may be mentally unstable. You do NOT want to see that.”

Nidrero was suspicious. “How do you know this?”

“I worked with humans before their empire fell, on the dreadnought Nomad III. I have seen many things… “

There was a long pause. “Let’s start sweeping the rooms..”

9

They started clearing rooms. They each respectively found each of the rooms they heard. Micer noticed something in the brewery room, however.

“This room looks like it was blasted out of the rock. It’s a lot less clean and refined than the other rooms. Look, the lighting wires aren’t even covered! I think this is either a recent addition to this complex, or the complex was never finished.”

Thister replied. “Why would a military outpost have a brewery when humans have such an extreme reaction to alcohol?”

They collectively shrugged their shoulders and went to the living quarters.

“Thister, check the commander’s room, Micer, weapons storage, Nidrero, the logging room, and I will check the barracks.”

They split up.

Thister noticed several odd things as he stepped into the Commander’s room. He saw a bottle of unlabeled, wide mouth whiskey on the bed table, with some kind of instrument underneath it. He also saw several custom kinetic weapons that were a small-ish size. The weapons looked worn and well used, but cleaned. There were differing types, but thister could not identify them since he had never seen one before.

“Goddamned invaders. Wallbots must have improved. You are getting out with your buddies or getting shot in the fucking M tentacle. Drop your gun, put your tendrils up and give me back the whiskey you stole. Mental attacks won’t work.”

Thister turned around slowly with his tendrils up, noticing the human was a larvae, no more than 14 years old. The human was holding a kinetic weapon, and Thister gingerly regarded the barrel.

The human was a larvae, no more than 14 years old. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite unless i make it. Hey…”

He seemed to notice something. He saw the military crest.

He went wide eyed and sunk to the ground, cradling the weapon in his hands and rocking back and forth on the floor.

He began muttering. “It worked… it worked.. It fucking worked”

10

Thister was surprised. He called the team over and asked Brocosite what was going on with the human.

Brocosite seemed to look at something far away behind thister and mumbled something softly. “It’s a fucking kid… Why, how, what-”

He caught himself and sighed. “It’s in a state of shock. Dump a bucket of water from the distillery over its head.”

The human came around, and, to the squads surprise, properly saluted them, albeit shakily.

“It’s - it’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
Micer smiled. “Hey, i like this kid.”

Thister spoke. “You can drop the proceeds, kid, these crests meant we were generals 10 years ago. Nidrero, can you brief him?”

The human visibly relaxed.

Nid responded. “Sure thing. We are to secure you and get you off this planet, along with your important possessions. The transport will be here in 4 days, and we need to lockdown this bunker to prepare for the oncoming resource war.”

The human paused, the shadows under his eyes seemingly deepening. “What resource? Uranium? Iridium? What?”

“Right first time.”

The human stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Damn. This base is right above a whole load of it, and this base needs to be held if they want the uranium. We need to start the second reactor if we need to go into siege mode for four days. Hey, what are your names again? Call me Sergei.”

They each introduced themselves, but the human stopped at Brocosite.


“Let me guess.”

He thought for a moment.

“Broc?”

Brocosite took a step back, stumbling. “Ivan? How did you recognize me?”

The human smiled a small, sad smile. “His kid, but you were close. How?”

Broc bowed his head. “Him and Jess were working on station 7. The side of the ship was blown open.”

The human looked down as well.

The rest of the squad slipped out of the door for a moment.

Nidrero spoke. “Damn, that hits hard.”

“No shit.” replied Micer.

11

“We need their help to start the reactor. Let’s give them a moment.” Said thister.
A while later, they went back in. They were astonished to find broc and the human sharing a toast, a glass of alcohol each.

“Um, Broc?” Micer asked tentatively.

“It’s a toast to fallen ones. Command would understand.” He finished the toast and stood up. “Where’s that second reactor?”

The human led them through the hallways, explaining the story as he went along. “9 years ago, Mr. Gavrilo was stationed here, at this outpost with his 5 year old son and wife. He and his wife were killed in action and the child was left here as the kraer closed in on this world-”

Broc interrupted. “Hey, I never knew he had a son, it was a secret-”

“Shh!”

The human continued. “We let them have this world, for it had nothing on it. The military stationed here pulled out, leaving a child in a supply closet who already knew a fair amount of engineering. (I’ll show you my farm later.) I survived, and I even added to this facility, learning from logs stored in the computer and using the machine shop. I sent out an emergency transmission 1 year ago, and today was the day my transmission was answered.”

Micer spoke timidly. “Not exactly. We came for the uranium, but found you here.”

The human seemed a bit put out. “Oh.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Anyways, here we are now. Try not to fall into the coolant.”

After the reactor was activated, the human seemed excited.

“Why is he so excited, broc?” Thister wondered.

“I take it you have never seen a human base in siege mode.”

“No…”

“Prepare to be surprised, then.”

The human spoke up. “Here, you go up and look at the base from the outside.” There was a twinkle in his eye. "Its pretty impressive the first time you see it.

12

Five minutes later and they were on a nearby cliff, the human inside activating siege mode.
There was a great grinding of gears and an immense electric humming that began at once. The innocuous tower and walls were transformed, walls rising up between the already existing walls and tower, the result being elevated grounds with a tower in the middle; with seemingly a great effort, the tower split into four pillars spreading outward, revealing themselves to be AA cannons; rising up through the middle was a shield generator on top of a pillar, the electric humming increasing, and a great one way shield began to cover the compound, covering sentry towers and cannons rising out of the elevated grounds; a siren began blaring, covering the whole land in its echoes as battlements rose up on the edge of the elevated grounds.

The squad (excluding Brocosite) was stunned beyond words.

Micer spoke first. “A bit excessive, dontcha think?”

Thister responded. “For once, i agree with you. Why would a simple outpost need all that?”

Nidrero spoke. “Maybe this outpost was on the edge of human territory, and would therefore bear the brunt of an invasion.”

Brocosite broke into the talk. “The humans always knew that they could never match our mental attacks, so they hoped to be greater than us mechanically. You are looking at the results of an empire with one advantage over us who exploited that advantage; you are duly impressed, but If you saw some of the human battleships, you would not think this is so astounding. I should know. I served aboard one. By forcing us to take battles near these outposts, humans had an advantage; one that caused many casualties.”

Then they met up with the human on the battlements.

“Well, the Draer know something is here now. What do we do?” Asked Micer.

13

“The Draer should be here in an hour, so we need to prepare. The shield is one way, but it only stops projectiles and missile attacks. The defenses are robotic, so we mostly just need to pick off things the main guns miss or something outside the shield that can wear down the shield, like heavy artillery. Please remember that I am vulnerable to mental attacks.” The human answered.

Brocosite started giving commands. “Each of you take a side of the fort while i radio command. It would be a good idea to rally the forces for the coming war here.”

The human turned to the rest of the team. “You will not have enough energy cells for those plasmatic repeaters. I will show you some of the guns i have. They are mostly old relics, but they are still functional. I have just enough for all of you, so I will train you.”

A few moments later, they found the firing range and the human began to go over basic protocol.

“This is the Mosin Nagant,” He said, picking up an old rifle. “I was named after it, and to this day it is still my favorite out of these guns, and is probably the one you will be using the most. It’s loud, but that’s all part of the fun. The reason it’s loud is that it uses explosive powder to launch the metal projectile. Safety rules on the range are the same as on any other.”

He explained the bolt mechanism and showed them the other two types of guns he had for use. This included the Winchester model 1897 and the mauser C96. Micer was curious.

“Why do you have so many old weapons? Why not new ones?”

The human responded. “My father was a collector of old military weapons, and he happened to find these for sale at an auction. He spent a lot of money on these, so treat them with care.”

They went to the range and began firing.

They all immediately were surprised by the recoil and noise, dropping the gun. It was not a good idea, sergei thought, to introduce them to his favorite gun straight away.

14

“It kicked me,” Nidrero said reproachfully.

“Did I forget to mention recoil? The gun kicks you and makes a loud noise. What about it? Your repeaters do the same,” Sergei said.

At this, Brocosite guffawed. “First off, that thing has more recoil than any of our repeaters 10 years ago, when they still had any. Second off, face tentacles, while durable and more useful than hands, are not made to hold a Sergei.”

Sergei laughed as well. “I am named after the the inventor, not the actual gun. Its called a Mosin, not a Sergei.”

“But you said-”

“I am recovering from a hangover. Excuse me.”

Micer looked confused. “What’s a hangover?”

Sergei looked at him blankly. “I will tell you later. Let’s try again, but with a firmer grip this time.”

They eventually got used to the recoil, and Sergei then let them move on to the other guns. Micer took to the winchester immediately. After all that, they got a mauser, mosin, and winchester each and started patrolling the walls.
That's all for now! still writing the rest. Thoughts, reccomendations? If you ask me to, I will update tomorrow night.

>>34599947
Damn son, this is some good shit.

>>34602721
thanks

goodnight /k/. I will be here tomorrow night.

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>>34599947
Damn, man, this is my... Fuck. I don't... FUCK! Let me get the dictionary, until then, just call it good shit.

>There will be fallout story... MODDED fallout story. Eventually.

>>34599947
Oh this is getting reeeeal good now

>>34598512
Meh, not bad. Got no book sales yesterday, which rather surprised me. Still don't have any this morning. Quite unfortunate, been marketing a fair bit since I have a promotional thing on the go. How's your day going? Or rather, how did your day go I guess? Since your message was yesterday.

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I'm stocking up on the pictures of various companions in what passes for tactical gear. I'm gonna try to keep the unrealistic "stock" weapons somewhat out of it. Though there will be some Stephen Hunter-esque "enchanted" guns, like Lyudmilla Petrova having a Mosin 91-30 PU that was unusually accurate with a certain lot of lol-Tula brand ammunition which she hoarded... It's just gonna be either the REALLY absurd SCI-FI ones that don't NEED to be realistic, or the mod weapons, like the Kiparis or the AS-VAL, RU556, a fucking BASTE VSS, a certain Desert Eagle... Whatever else I happen to find laying around that isn't a fucking M1A1 or a P-90... SERIOUSLY, SO MANY P90's! It's like Fallout 4 took place in a fucking universe where 5.7mm caught on.

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>>34602903
Hey, Gotta be a better writer than me to get people to throw you coin. If I published my works on Ebay or whatever, I'd probably be the Chuck Tingle of guns... That or someone from here would figure out my full name and start writing best sellers about which to send me taunting messages.

>>34602979
Thanks, yeah I'm making a bit of money almost every day with my writings. A fan already bought my last book and wrote a review the very next day after having read it. You can find the review on Amazon, but here it is.

5 Stars "Best so far"

"I never liked zombies. What a terribly lazy way to write on the apocalypse, assuming there are supplies to easily pick up for years as if the collapse is nothing more than a shopping trip with an unlimited credit card. But there are even worse than normal zombie tales, 99% of what is out there, and incredibly great zombie books and this series is in that 1%. But this series has nothing to do with zombies making it good and everything to do with the authors abilities. No matter what he writes, he is good. A natural talent. I’m a voracious reader and I know good and bad writing, and I’ve been writing myself for twenty-five or so years and I’m no natural. Only practice has made me less than wretched. I’m not jealous-I’m pleased. The natural ones are rare. Almost anyone you read, it is rote. A formula. A job. Not this guy. As far as this particular book in the series, I’d have to say it is probably the best one. The first, well, it was unique. It was long but it was good. I loved it. This latest doesn’t have the length. But, it also doesn’t have the navel gazing. The introspection was part of the characterization, and well done, but that was what accounted for the length. If that had been duplicated into the forth book it would have gotten too boring. Instead, what you see is the pace picking up, more characters introduced, more action than mulling. Each book in the series improves upon the last and the forth puts that on steroids. When it’s great to start, and just keeps getting better, what’s to argue about? Another must read."

Very uplifting, no? My series is very realistic and nitty-gritty. Don't have people waltzing around with M4A1s or AKS-74Us, lugging 20 fully loaded mags, etc.

>>34603218
but why WOULDN'T you carry 20 loaded mags? I never really got that. I mean, I can get behind M4 and AK74 to SOME extent, but I also think an autoloading rifle is the IDEAL thing to carry around, along with plenty of mags, just don't go into the open too much and make sure not to sleep in easy to find places. Being that AR-15's are the most popular rifle in america, I see no reason why not. Eight in the chestrig, one in the gun, more in the backpack, it'd almost certainly be the easiest gun to support, being that EVERYTHING for it is standardized and such. I get the whole Idea with raiders and snipers or whatever, but the whole point of a gun in the first place is to allow you to easily take on more than one armed adversary, do the people who say you'd get robbed if you had tactical gear take that into account? Do they think that raiders who'd rob you if you were carrying more optimal equipment WOULDN'T rob you over a set of jeans, shirt, backpack or whatever else JUST BECAUSE you're carrying a piece of shit mauser copy? That's my view on it, anyway.

>>34603287
Magazines are heavy for one. A loaded STANAG mag is about 1.1lb (.5kg) so 20 of them is 22lb (10kg) which is obviously quite a bit of weight in ammo alone. The second issue is the AMOUNT of ammo; not everyone has 600 rounds of .223 or 5.56 laying about, much less 20 magazines, and the chances of 'finding' (I fucking hate how convenient it is that people in zombie movies just luck out and 'find' the shit that they need) so much is highly unlikely, but even if you did 'find' all that shit, why carry that much?

With gun laws as they are, people having an M4A1 or AKS-74U (or even just a standard AK-74) is HUGELY unlikely (to a lesser extent with the AK-74 if you're in America). You'll be wanting to keep them on semi-auto at any rate. AR-15 is different than M4A1. AR is semi-auto-only, M4 has burst-mode, M4A1 has full-auto-mode, and neither are wanted in a zombie apocalypse. Stick to semi-auto, you can't afford to waste more than one round per trigger pull.

As for what's ideal, when smokeless powder is all used up (and it WILL see an end inevitably) if you're lucky enough to figure out how to make black powder or trade with someone who does, then at least you can use up the rest of the primers that you might happen upon by making black powder cartridges, and black powder cartridges generally don't do too well in self-loading firearms, especially gas operated ones. You need to think long-term, not just days or weeks or even months, but years and decades.

>>34603321
>the fudd is strong with this one

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>All while you were asleep, Doll gathered up the things she needed
>not that that was things most people would normally need
>Not that this was much of of a normal night anyway
>8 minutes and 57 seconds after she ended the call, Doll fired up the old Pontiac and sped off

>While she was driving, Gnevny and Cassie waited outside the post office
>Stephanie was still working inside, finding drawers, looking for papers
>Turns out breaking in wasn’t very exciting
>Gnevny even walked away and bought a milkshake in a night open petrol station and shared with Cassie
>they sat around and waited
>talked a bit
>idle chatter about whatever to pass the time
>At about the same time as Stephanie managed to crawl out and get back to the car, Doll arrived at the little abandoned house
>Lala sat and comforted Amanda in what was the living room at some point in time

“Hey, Doll”
“Good evening. All okay here?”
“Considering the circumstances, I guess”

>Amanda just nodded a little and stared into the ground

“Right. Take the GTO, go to a diner or a movie or something, make sure your phones are on. And Lala-”
“Yeah, I know if someone asks it's cosplay”
“Good. I left some money in the car, you have fun now”

>Doll watched the old car rumble away
>When she was comfortable with it being out of sight, she started changing
>Old comfy pair of jeans went off, as did the blouse and jacket
>And on went her old uniform
>The very same one she wore in a God forgotten jungle in south East Asia a long, long time ago
>Those black leather boots
>They still fit rather badly, maybe not surprising considering how walked a lot less than the soldier carrying her did
>She took the big duffel bag over her shoulder and went downstairs, to the young man still tied to a chair

“Hello”

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>She had put her voice askew a little, to make it sound a touch more hoarse

“W-who are you?”

>Dolls clothes and act gave exactly the right vibes, and the effect was immediate

“Don't worry. You won't see me after tonight. I do however have the same request as the previous girls. So-
“You have to make me”

>Doll slaps him with considerable force

“Make you, huh?”

>He was too busy squealing to give an answer

“You think I won't be able to make you talk?”
“I-I'll take my chances”
“Of course you will. It's… almost 11 o'clock and i figure I have about 7 hours to make this work. I'm going to enjoy myself at least”

>The man tried to answer, but something made sure he couldn't get as much as a sound out
>He was going to have a long night

>At about 2 In the morning, a slightly tipsy Lala clings on Amanda, both Agreeing that Mad Max: Wasteland was indeed the best film ever made

“We should toooootally go to Australia sometime”
“Lala, I've told you, it's not a documentary”
“You said that about Star Wars as well”
“Yeah, it's because that's not a documentary either”
“You don't know that! You have no evidence!”
“Lightsabers aren't real”
“In another galaxy, they are. How else would we have filmed it?”
“I… don't know”
“See! I tooold you! Hihihihi…”
“Damnit Lala, take it easy, we're among people…”

>Amanda grabs and moves away the hand that has been groping her ass for the last minute

“Please behave”
“Okay…”

>Lala’s posture sinks together, tail slacks and ears fold flat

“No, wait I don't want you to be sad, Lala, please?”
“B-but i like you…”
“I know, but you know in public it will attract attention and-”

“HEEEEEY”

>Lala and Amanda turn their eyes away from each other and to the side, where a group of even more drunk teenagers stands

“ARE THOSE REAL”

>>34603331
I'm into long-term survivalism, and as such, given the considerations, the ideas firearm would be one that's manually operated. Obviously an AR or AK would be better in a situation that involved an armed threat, but if things comes down to black powder a manually operated firearm can be used more efficiently than a self-loader until the primers run out. In time though, unless you can figure out how to make new primers, at best you'll end up using muskets. If not muskets, then if you're handy with woodwork then perhaps you can fashion a crossbow. If not crossbow, then it'll be bow and arrow, and unless you've already got lots of practice under your belt then you'll probably be extremely shitty starting out. Personally, I intend on trying to make my own black powder someday. I more-or-less know the process. Can't wait to make my own matchlock musket, and maybe even someday a flintlock. Fashioning a bayonet will be tricky I think.

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“O-oh, these?”

>Lala was blushing and stuttering when she pointed to the sizeable feline ears on her head

“Nooo, no. Nonono. T-these i bought online”
“CAN I TRY THEM PLEEEEEEASE”
“N-no. Uhm… I'm wearing them”
“WHERE DID YOU BUY THE TAIL. IT'S SOOO FLUFFY. LET ME TOUCH IT”
“Whaaaa.... No, wait”

>The drunk teenager rushes up to Lala and start reaching for her head

“THEY FEEL SO REAL”

>Amanda steps in and pushes the teen away

“Go easy on her! She's wearing that for the first time damnit!”
“BUT IT'S SOOO CUUUUTE”
“Sure it is, but you are getting too close”

>The teenager finally realised the mistake

“S-sorry”
“It's fine. If you want a pair, look on ebay or something”
“Y-you too”

>Amanda drags the confused Lala away

“You didn't have to be so harsh…”
“You're mine, and the drunk got to close. Let's go”
“You can scratch them if you want to…”
“Hmpf…”

>Despite Amanda's grumpy reaction, one of her hands finds its way to Lala’s head
>A finger runs gently where the ear meets the head, and it waggles happily in response
>Half an hour later they have munched up some french fries, and lie in the back of the car
>Both phones had been silent for a while

“This was okay as far as an evening goes”
“mhm…”

>Lala shoves her face into Amanda’s shoulder

“What do you think Doll is doing?” Amanda wondered
“Getting things done…”
“Yeah, but how?”
“Do you really want to know...?”
“How would i know, if it don’t know?”
“Hmm… I guess you’re right”

>During exactly that moment, Doll’s right hand was turning sore after quite a long time of “correcting the behaviour” of the man she was interrogating

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“Hey, Amanda?”
“Mhm?”
“Did the drunk really like my ears that much?”
“I think so”
“Think I can make money on it?”
“...”
“I MEANT HAIR BRUSHING VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE YOU DAMN PERVERT”
“S-sorry”
“Don't worry, sweetheart, only you can touch”
“Uhm… thanks?”

>Lala sighs and crawls up to the driver's seat of the car

“Come on, seems like the guys are about to finish up”

~~~

>You wake up late that morning
>And none of the two nicer cars are there
>Your initial reaction is to find one of your weapons
>But since they were gone as well, you sighed heavily and made some food
>same morning routine, help Annie doe her things, no matter how much she didn't liked being helped with the most basic of things
>Wash her off
>carry her back to bed
>Sit and feed her, idle chatter
>Often just lay down and watch a movie

>Today she wanted to sit in the sun a little
>You found a nice deck chair, a cushion and let her sit there
>In the sound of the light breeze, the chirping of birds and the sun on her skin, Annie fell asleep in a few minutes
>At a few minutes past 8, two cars roll in
>First, the sleek, straight lines of the early 1990s in the BMW followed by the rounded and chromed GTO
>There was a lot to ask
>Why Doll was wearing her uniform
>Why Cassie looked as tired to sleep for a full day
>Why Lala and Amanda ran into the house chattering faster than what anyone could decipher
>The only one that actually stopped to talk to you was the little redhead

“Gnevny! Do I want to know what everyone has been up to tonight?”
“No. But we did good. For a good cause. And if something nice happens in a week or so, be nice to Doll”
“Uhh… okay”

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>Days went by, waiting for any news from anyone
>Annie did her best just holding on to life, but it got more and more evident the sickness was starting to get the better of her
>Her joints hurt more and more, her muscles got stale
>She couldn't walk herself at this point
>Her legs simply didn't carry her
>You also had a harder and harder time getting her to eat anything
>when everything else was hard to eat, you were left with soup and fruit sliced in very small pieces
>but she kept losing weight
>Her once muscular yet soft legs had thinned down
>her chest had shrunken
>her face had seemingly gotten narrower, and more pale
>and every time you washed her off, her ribcage got a little more pronounced
>that awful feeling of her not having much time left always lay over you, like a wet, cold blanket


>Hope was given a new flame some days later when Doll called from the car
>Her message was short but it had everything you needed to know
>Book a flight, first available
>You knew there was rather few flights that went from American cities to Europe
>The fastest you could get there was a flight leaving tomorrow evening from Des Moines going to Munich
>21:45, the following evening
>You rush up back to Annie with the good news
>Get the bags packed
>Passport, money, tickets clothes
>And carry on bags with food, water, painkillers for Annie
>Her passport arrived with Doll
>Annie Simonova, it said
>It had made up birthday, a picture
>Even a place of birth
>Annie cried a few tears of joy before pointing out that an extra “A” has snuck its way into her name
>Not that she would complain
>You set of hours ahead of what you needed to get to the airport
>Doll was driving while you sat in the back seat
>You should really sleep, it was going to be a long night
>But you were far too sped up for that

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>“Doll”
“Mhm?”
>“How did you get her a passport that quickly anyway?”
“I haven't threatened anyone”
>“I didn't say you had”
“Let's just put it like this. A dad is happy his son isn't a complete loser, and a son has had the night of his life”
>“Uhm, did you two…?”
“God no”
>“I don't get it”
“Please. Annie has her passport, and no one got hurt… in ways they didn't want”
>“Okay, I'm really going to stop asking questions now”

>Doll smirks and keeps driving
>Miles upon miles get chewed up
>As the afternoons approaches, traffic thickens up
>thankfully, the last bit to the airport goes rather smoothly
>You get Annie out of the car, and gently put her down in the wheelchair
>All stuff you have with you is in two bags, one duffel bag you have to have on your back, and a little rucksack Annie has in her lap
>Quite a bit of kit to haul around, but it was your burden to carry

>You say goodbye to Doll and turn towards the terminal
>looked fancy at least
>big glass windows, ads with people smiling on them, shiny floors
>You pushed her gently through the big revolving doors
>It was her first time at an airport apparently
>The good thing was pretty much any place one would want to go to in the airport was available to people traveling on wheels, which was very nice
>This was probably because of landwhales on mobility scooters more than those in wheelchairs

>All those airport things had to be done
>Get the tickets from the fidgety machine
>wait for luggage check in
>get lost 3 times trying to find the security checks
>They were incredibly interested in Annie due to her easter sounding name and wheelchair
>Because to the TSA people, the only reason anyone would ever have a wheelchair was to smuggle something, and not because she couldn’t walk
>It took quite a bit of time explaining to the man he had to lift Annie out of her wheelchair if he had to search it
>Which he didn’t do, and instead got a female colleague to search Annie when she was still sitting down

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>A half hour they spent looking over the wheelchair and the contents of the little rucksack

>And then trouble
>An proud looking man in a uniform stands with a small girl by the door the the waiting hall

Stop
>”What is it, Annie?”

>She nods towards the uniformed man

Little one is state employed and her job is to see no geist get through. Probably won’t be a problem though. Just keep going

>You trust her to know what she is doing and slowly pushed her through the checkpoint while pretending it's raining

>”What did you do?” you dare ask when you got through security

>Annie giggles a little, a very rare and precious sound nowadays

It's because you are a bad actor
>”I'm not that bad”
You have to either speak or act with body language. The art is acting without using either
>Dammit woman, this disease going to your he'd as well?”

>It's quiet between you for a few seconds before she hears you laughing a little bit

Not fair! This is serious business!
>”Course it is sweetie”

>You chatter a little between you while waiting for the plane to get fueled and cleaned
>With the inevitable delay, the wheels depart from the ground just before 22:00
>Turns out the cramped space in the seats were a catastrophic thing for Annie
>The plane was crammed full, so there was no option of shuffling around
>And all the bulkhead and seats and seats by the exits were occupied by either people in suits, that had paid for them, or hamplanets that “needed” them
>Annie couldn't sit in her wheelchair either, because it was against safety regulations

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>After just half an hour, she was in quite bad pain
>She could just barely wiggle in the seat before her knees bumped into the seat in front of her
>And to add insult to injury, what appeared to be a mom with two kids, and the classic “I want to see the manager” haircut demanded Annie stopped “harassing” her by tapping the back of her seat
>Telling her to be considerate to the fact Annie had bad pain in her legs was obviously the wrong thing to do, because she just reclined her seat
>You blood was nearing it's boiling point, but you couldn't really start a fight in a plane
>Instead you shifted places with your beloved Annie to get her behind the woman's child and give her a little more room
>The woman in front sees this as an act of war and reclines the backrest on her child's seat, to make sure Annie can't move her legs at all

>Never before have you wanted to kill anyone as badly as you wanted to kill this woman

Anon, Please…

>Annie whispers to you

I will endure. But… you have to get me to mother as quickly as possible when we land
>”It's just, this bitch…”
I will make sure she gets what she deserves. Just be quick when we land,please
>”I promise”
>The flight took 11 hours and 40 minutes from start to finish
>700 minutes of agonising pain Annie had to endure
>She could do about two hours before tears started welling up in her eyes
>When it got that bad, you lifted her out of the seat so she could sit by the toilets for a few minutes and stretch her legs a little

[Munich international Airport, 16:55 local time]

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>The main landing gear wheels scream as the heavy 777 returns to earth after almost 12 hours in the air
>The plane taxies for what seems like an eternity before arriving at the gate
>Of course you have to wait until last with the pensioners to get enough space to carry Annie out and get her in her wheelchair
>Then to do lots of normal airport stuff, stand in line, wait, look at vending machines
>like the airport you left half a day ago, only much… more german
>gard to explain what it what exactly
>Something with the design maybe?
>Whatever
>Go through customs, passport check and all that
>even the man (or mann because this is germany) behind the passport check in desk wore a very neat suit
>The process was rather painless since there was no TSA to look search every little part of your body for drugs
>Which was nice
>You get the duffel bag, and then proceed out of the arrival hall
>Annie is even looking a little more cheerful

>Next part was the rental car
>Some place called Europcar would lend you some horrid SUV for a few days
>Yes, it was an awful thing, but you didn’t want to take any chances with the car
>If you had to drive whatever a VW Tiguan was for a few days, just for the 4wd, that’s okay
>The woman behind the desk was polite, and had only a touch of an accent

>But then, a few words that hit you like 2x4 swung by a strongman and turned your stomach to ice

“Drivers license, please”

>You forgot your driver's license at home

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That's it for now, sorry of it stretched on a little

Hope you like it!

And if nothing else, hope you like the blackbirds... cause i think you are a faggot if you dont like blackbirds

>>34603321
1. Military-grade weapons and equipment would not be difficult to find in any sort of zombie apocalypse. The National Guard would almost certainly be out in force, and assuming they were either routed or overrun (a necessity for any zombie apocalypse story to work), their stuff would be all over the place.

2. Smokeless powder, primers, bullets, and cases are not hard to manufacture. Assuming any group large enough to do their own reloading has any brain power among them, they'd be building 5.56 in no time.

3. Ammunition isn't all that hard to find. I just bought 500 rounds of .223 on sale at my local sporting goods store because they were having a hard time getting rid of it all. Pretty much every store with a hunting and fishing section will have ammunition.

4. Any group of survivors large enough to plan months or years in advance would need to have highly-organized scavenging parties, as well as a highly-defensible location. As such, it would be unreasonable for them NOT to secure military and industrial equipment. Once you got an organized society up and running in an apocalypse (especially one where most infrastructure is intact), it wouldn't be difficult to thrive.

Stop proliferating Max Brooks-tier fuddery.

>>34603404
>Smokeless powder and primers are not hard to manufacture
Make some. Even black powder is a long, disgusting, and laborious process.

>Ammunition isn't hard to find, just bought 500 rounds
I'm sure that would help if there were millions of undead around; ammo will be burnt up in short order, much of it within the first days, and continued use over the weeks would mean by the time months have passed there will barely be any left. If you're right about Military-grade firearms not being hard to find, then yeah, idiots will be flicking on the fun-switch and blowing mags within a handful of seconds.

>scavenging parties for months/years in advance
You expect me to take you seriously?... you think store shelves will continue to be stocked or something? What a joke; you're going to need land, you're going to have to work that land, and you'll have to grow crops. When thinking about years, that's your best bet at survival, especially when scurvy is considered.

>industrial equipment
You mean the stuff often powered by fuel? I'm sure that, like smokeless powder and primers, you think that's not hard to manufacture either, yeah? The funniest part is I don't think you're even trolling; I'm betting that you really are this foolish.

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>>34603395
>noice

>>34603523
>Make some.
Not an argument. If a group was able to make black powder, smokeless wouldn't be a significant step up.

>ammo will be burnt up in short order
You seem to underestimate just how much ammunition exists in the world. I could see ammunition from before the apocalypse running out after 1-2 years, but months? That's laughable. Especially if there are exceedingly high casualties in the beginning of said apocalypse. That's the thing that people don't realize, if enough people died that survivors were relatively uncommon, far fewer people would be using up the ammunition. I'm not saying it wouldn't be harder to find after a month or so, but that doesn't mean people will be resorting to fucking matchlocks within a period of years. By that time, if they haven't begun making proper powder and cartridges, there's not much hope for them anyway.

>you think store shelves will continue to be stocked or something?
And you think I'm talking about looking through stores for perishable goods? I'm talking about resources. Cutting steel out of wrecked cars, looting electrical components, machinery, all the necessary raw materials to build a society.

>You mean the stuff often powered by fuel? I'm sure that, like smokeless powder and primers, you think that's not hard to manufacture either, yeah?
Firstly, industrial equipment can have many other uses beyond making things. You can pull some very useful parts out of an industrial lathe or mill and use them to build a smaller, more efficient setup, and all of that equipment can be run off of electricity generated through other means. Fossil fuels are not the only existing power source, you know. And even if they couldn't find any diesel (again, easily salvageable from derelict military vehicles), or if for some reason they couldn't rig up wind turbines, wood and coal-fired boilers aren't impossible to build.


But hey, nice strawmanning, fucking idiot.

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>>34603523
>Scurvy
Dude, do you live in england? Is RICKETS next? Also, this stuff IS written down, you know. It's not like there's some illuminati/zog/borg conspiracy where the recipes for powder, primer compounds or the equipment to stamp thick foil stock into primers are passed around ear to mouth by the sacred oracle, to be known only by the top alchemists of the shire, this shit is literally in your public library (they still exist) Anyway, back to scurvy, With the population diminished by the zombies that should be contained pretty well, the supply of fruit will be slightly if not significantly more plentiful. Onto the military, I'm pretty sure that the word's spread on head shots to such a point by now that the military DOESN'T get overrun only aiming at bodies and firing ad infinitum until they burn out their entire ammo supply in continuous dumps, like your WWZ level shit implies... OH, and you realize a headshot is still possible in full auto, right? And with full auto it's possible to fire less than a whole mag in one burst? Fuck no, the soldiers would be lighting them up and quickly burning them down. In fact, some are so well verssed in controlling a full auto firearm that they can fire a whole burst INTO a head at the close ranges a zombie apocalypse would mandate... The problem is, you take these Romero/brooks tier platitudes and run with them, rather than a more realistic account of gunplay... granted, that would waste all the zombies before anything approaching an "apocalypse." If anything at all, you will see more waste in ammunition from the precision shooters taking long distance pot shots at them and missing because a head swayed this way or that after the shot was fires and the shooter didn't account for it.
In any case, I'm lissed that I took such foul tasting bait.
>I'm only retarded to be pretending!

>>34603523
>Make some.
Would you prefer nitroglycerin or nitrocellulose? With a decent chemistry set and some basic raw materials, I could make either. I mean, it'd be shitty compared to the factory-made stuff, but it'd work in a pinch.

>>34603395
that bitch on the plane got me thinking: maybe guns aren't banned from planes because of fear of terrorism, but because of fear of normal people flipping out because of bitches like that. There should be a rule enforced across all airlines that disruptive passengers will be given parachutes and pushed out of the plane mid-flight (and especially disruptive passengers won't, get a parachute I mean.)

Also need moar

>>34603835
Yeah, I can't imagine any scenario with an AT rifle being fired inside a plane ending well

Also, sidenote. The no room thing never happened to me cause I'm tiny, so it's mostly from what others have said

>>34601424
I'm working on that, I swear

>>34602645
Sometimes you have the aliens slip into human vernacular. Is that intentional?

Broc also has a tendency to lord his human association above the others all the time.

What's with being former generals and STILL out on missions?

Where's the ammo for these guns coming from? IIRC, you made 4 aliens,carry 3 guns apiece, so you have 12 out there. Do they have spare ammo on them?

Keep going, though. Looks like it's going to get reeeeeally interesting here in a bit.

Part of KvsW is binned
https://pastebin.com/q3ZKt07N

Tank knigths youre in, ill keep a tab on your stuff if you got questions feel free to send me an E-mail

>its on the FAQ

https://pastebin.com/j5FFFZ6J

>>34603395
>forgotten license
>shitbrix.exe

I've felt that pain. Holy Lord, I don't want that again. What's Anon gonna do?

>>34603395
Damn good update. You always do a great job of getting readers to feel Anon's emotions.

>>34604908
>>34605277
Thank you! I might even complete this arc in this or the next... or maybe the next update after that. Maybe

(I have had this on my computer for a while, I was debating if I should bin it, link first & the short story in follow-up posts):

https://pastebin.com/BPj691Ka

>>34605592

>So, for the third time in less than three years the impossible has happened.
>The US government has started systematically confiscating firearms.
>The irony is that the order came from the man who supposedly wasn't going to touch people's guns.
>The whole thing might seem funny to some if the confiscation wasn't specifically targeting geists.
>This didn't sit well with a lot of gun owners & as such countless militias all over the country had sprang up to resist what to them was no different from the Holocaust.
>Now you were part of one of them & you were a mere minutes away from being branded as a terrorist.
>You don't really care, part of the reason you came to America was to put some distance between the Neo-Finlandicized politicians who just might have caved in to pressure from Russian government to hand you over.
>Apparently severing a desantnik's jugular in close quarters combat now counts as a brutal execution of a prisoner of war.
>"Papa?", Aino whispers into your ear, interrupting your thoughts.
>"What is it?" you ask your sidearm.
>"That guy isn't going to be able to do it" she says, she doesn't specify who she's referring to, she doesn't have to.
>"For fuck's sake" you mutter as you crawl to the guy in question; a twenty-something guy holding a TRG-42.
>"Move over, I'll take it from here" you say to him, the plan was for him to snipe the machine gunners and/or anyone else posing a threat to your group.
>You had had your suspicions about his ability to do his job from the start. It isn't his skill you are worried about, nor is it the weapon or the distance; the targets are relatively close and the optics on the rifle are good.
>And that's the problem: the shooter can see his target clearly, making it that much harder to pull the trigger than with iron sights from the same distance where you can pretend you are only shooting at paper targets, for a normal civilian the task couldn't be harder.

>You aren't exactly Häyhä, but from this distance your skill is enough, and after everything you have been through you know you can pull the trigger.
>The guy complies and you take the rifle, he picks up binoculars and starts designating targets: one Ma Deuce and two GPMGs visible.
>You check the targets for yourself and frown when you see the GPMGs: PKMs, meaning there's a good chance they were confiscated, meaning there's a good chance they have geists. If there are more guards than you thought you may have to disable the machine guns, and you aren't confident in your ability to sever the belts. You'll have to hit the receivers, and if you do that the weapons will in all likelihood be beyond saving.
>Killing those fuckers won't be an issue, but hurting geists is another thing completely.
>"You ok Anon?" Mike whispers as he comes to check on you, he must have noticed the PKMs as well.
>"How sure are you that there's only a handfull of them?" you ask.
>"Pretty sure, besides you have more than enough rounds to simply keep shooting anyone trying to use those machineguns, I doubt any of them can pose a serious threat to you with just rifles" he replies.
>"By the way, are you sure you want to do this while wearing that? You know what will happen to you if this goes South and you are captured wearing that" you say, referring to his MCCUUs. If he is captured it won't take very long for them to identify him & drag his ass to a military prison to await court martial.
>"I am in uniform precisely because of the risk, if I'm to be captured, I want it to be known that my belief in what we do is strong enough to attack a federal installation in uniform."
>"That isn't strictly speaking a federal installation though" you say.
>"Maybe so, but if I am captured I will be tried as if it were."
>"Point taken" you concede & Mike returns to his own post. You choose your first target; the childmolester -looking man who can't seem to keep his hands off of the M2, for what ever rea-

>>34605610

>"You have got to be kidding me" you say as it dawns on you.
>"No headshot for you, let's see what a .338 to pelvis does to a grown man" you say as you flip off the safety and shift your aim.
>"Twenty seconds" your spotter whispers.
>Once again you feel all emotion inside you disappear as you force yourself to breathe slower and more silently, not because you are afraid of being heard, but because it helps in reaching the right mindset.
>"Five seconds"
>You breathe in heavily, then out until your lungs are half-full & hold your breath as you start to slowly squeeze the trigger.


BLAM

>>34605622

also link to all of my stuff: https://pastebin.com/Q4EZpP0P

>>34605601
>
>>You don't really care, part of the reason you came to America was to put some distance between the Neo-Finlandicized politicians who just might have caved in to pressure from Russian government to hand you over.
This reminds me of what happened to Lauri Törni after ww2

>>34605622
>US military
>confiscating guns
>implying most of them wouldn't immediately turn against the government
>implying they weren't planning a coup on election night in case hillary won

>>34605999
Really? They were?

>>34605999
>>US military
>>confiscating guns
please do point out *where* it says US military was doing the confiscating

>>34606046

It's the trips of truth, so it must be true

>>34605999
>>34606065
still waiting

>>34603391
I can already tell what shenanigans are gonna happen and i approve

>>34605999
Oi, OPSEC, you.

>>34605904
let's just say I listen to Sabaton a lot.

>>34591658
Bring me that breeder.

>>34607788
I bet you wanna stick your willy in her hoo-hoo. You really are a faggot.

>>34604790
the human vernacular is intentional. I wanted to make the aliens relatable and show the impact the human empire had on alien culture.

i wanted to imply that Broc served many years ago, and as such is the squad leader and source on all things human to the squad.

I meant to imply that the human perception of the crests was outdated. It was used for generals 10 years ago, but now means something else.

Sergei supplied ammo for these guys.

After the first half an hour, Sergei called them down and taught them how to make molotov cocktails using the whiskey and a few glass bottles from the distillery. Bandit clothing was usually nothing but rags. Sergei explained why these weapons were needed.

“Telekinesis troops can attack from outside the shield. We need something that can disrupt even the most seasoned telekinesis troopers mind, since we cannot kill them fast enough to stop them. Besides, the results are usually entertaining with a molotov.

Nidrero had a question. “How was this thing invented?”

Sergei told the story as he started making one. “When the soviet union invaded finland during the winter war of 1940, the badly equipped finns needed something to destroy the soviet tanks. With a well placed throw at the rear vents of a tank, you could damage the engine and - if you were lucky - hit the ammunition cache and blow up the tank. It’s still used today by pirates to terrorize ships once they get inside.”

Micer raised an E-tentacle. “So your species threw bottles of alcohol…”

“Yes, go on.”

“At war machines.”

“Yep.”

“I swear, humans seem more perpetually drunk out of your minds the more I hear about them.”

16

Sergei flashed a grin at him. “Depends on what you mean by drunk. It’s usually used by your species to reach a heightened state of mind. You can still get wasted, but it takes a lot more to get you drunk, and alcohol can usually be used by you and your species as a meditation aid or something like that. Humans do not have that option, and usually end up just plain drunk.”

Everyone set themselves to making molotovs as Thister spoke. “Reminds me of that fiasco where command tried to give grunts and officials - everyone really - just enough alcohol to help them reach that heightened mind once a day.”

Sergei grinned. “Continue…”

Thister responded. “Well, us Kraer are able to become addicted. Pretty soon, some grunts were completely addicted, bumming off their buddies. Within the second week we had no fewer than 40 dishonorable discharges relating to fights over alcohol. Even then, most people did not drink it because of the horrible taste. 190 proof alcohol can kill humans and is most efficient at getting things drunk, so command used that… not a good idea. It tasted awful.”

Sergei broke into laughter. “I am not sure there is a worse way to introduce someone to the world of alcohol than telling them to drink 190 proof.”

17

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can someone post the pastebin that has the list of all the stories written by /k/ writers? or at least the /k/ commandos vs wild

>>34610599
its on the OP

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>>34610613
>http://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek
oh. fuck im retarded

The siege of the abandoned outpost began no more than 15 minutes later. The siren had begun blaring 5 minutes before, and the squad was ready and prepared with full cloaking energy when they saw the first war machines, backed by infantry, backed by snipers, backed by warships. Commands army and the rest of the Draer army would be here in 4 days.

It was 4 Kraer, 1 human, and robotic defenses versus 250 Draer.

Upon discovering the shield, the great war engines set up and began pounding the shields as the battleships swooped low and began blasting the shield.

The AA cannons were making their mark, and there was enough energy output to protect the base from the warships, but if the artillery was not destroyed the shields would succumb to the bombardment shortly. The Draer would not advance with their infantry until the robotic defenses were gone, and they could not get at the defenses until the shield was gone.

Sergei assessed the situation. “The robotic defenses will protect us from the infantry and battleships, but we must destroy the war machines. Activate personal cloaking and take the molotovs. I will deal with the snipers if i can.”

Several sniper shots and one loud BOOM was heard as the team climbed down the walls. They had one mission: Get to the tanks and destroy them without getting killed with only a minute of cloaking available.

They found a rock about halfway that had a good view of the tanks without jeopardizing themselves. They deactivated cloaking and observed how the 5 tanks functioned.

The wallbot revealed a few things. First off, the ammo cache was well within the mech, heavily protected and not vulnerable to any small arms fire. The exhaust pipes were at the back and opened every minute or so, but this exhaust was not flammable, and the path it was on did not go on a straight line to the engine and so couldn’t help them. There was a way to the engine, but it could only be accessed by an engineer with special tools.

18

“Well, what now?” Thister asked.

“We hit the ammo cache, of course.” Said Micer.

“Are you crazy? The only way to the ammo cache is straight down the.. launch... barrel….”

Their E-tentacles started writhing.

“It’s the only way in. If we put a molotov down the barrel, then we destroy the tank. You just need good aim.”

“No way. We can hit the mark, but how do we not harm ourselves in the process? The shield battery for us would undoubtedly drain.” Brocosite answered.

Micer stubbornly shook an E tentacle. “Are you going to be the one to crawl back to Sergei and tell him there was nothing we could do? We cannot survive as long as these tanks remain operable!”

“He is right,” said Nidrero. “If we time it right, we can kill 4 of them and scare off the 5th. We will run out of cloak and shields, but we can make it back to base.”

“Not without Sergei's support. Radio him.” Said thister.

Sergei disagreed. “This is madness! There may be no other way to destroy the tanks, but we can fight in the tunnels!”

“No,” Said Broc. “If we lose the above ground defences, then we all die or get captured. You know I am right.”

“You may be right,” said Sergei, “But I will only go along with this since you all will. I will try to pick off infantry advancing to you. Be safe!”

With sergei's dubious approval, they started preparing to make a run for it.

“We start moving to the base of the tanks 5 seconds before the next barrage, then take 5 seconds to light the Molotovs and throw it down the barrel. Prepare yourselves.”

Those seconds were the most tense of their lives.

“Go!”

They raced to the tanks and fumbled with their molotovs, each preparing for an explosion.

“1..2..3! Throw!”

Time seemed to slow. Their cloak ran out as they sprinted away from the tanks for a brief moment, dived into the sand, readied their weapons and prayed.

19

The tanks rocked with the explosion of the round, sparks leaping out of the barrel like a roman candle, aluminum rivulets pouring out of the exhaust as the engine melted, but the tanks did not blow up. The soldiers inside them did, however.

The squad found themselves with full shields and no personal damage, but a host of infantry plasmatic repeaters trained on them and firing as they rushed back to the rock. Every few seconds there was a BOOM as a Draer M-tendril mysteriously disappeared, the infantry now fleeing to cover and the enemy snipers hitting the rock as the team dove to cover. They were pinned with only a quarter of their shields left and no cloak.

Sergei was slowly scaring off the infantry, however, and they retreated outside the range of Sergei.

They made a run for it, took a few hits, and made it.

The squad made it back to base with Nidrero, Sergei, and Thister wounded, but the tanks destroyed and with “Only flesh wounds.”

The sentries would keep the infantry at bay and the one tank was now either scared or being repaired. They were safe, but only for a moment.

20

Thats all for now! Will update if asked. Questions, comments?

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>>34607788
Sorry, she's the daughter of a friend from /pol/. Haven't heard from him in a while, we used to watch cops together and "spot the similarity"

>>34611683
It's well written...

do people want more spoops or do they want more spooks?

>>34613272
Spooks... versus Spoops?

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>ywn replace rock as another gun in the company instead of a beltway pansy accountant
>ywn go on crazy adventures and jobs for Lagoon Company with Revy, saving eachother's asses and watching eachother's backs
>ywn spend hours cleaning everyone's guns while Revy watches and rails a bottle of Bacardi as you do it, Rob Zombie playing much too loudly
>ywn wrench on the Vietnam-era PT boat with Dutch
>ywn impress Balalaika so much with your work she will come to you first with return business
>ywn buy ICS MGL's, Anti-materiel rifles, M240's, AT4's from arms dealers masquerading as a bunch of nuns in a church
>ywn hunt the Filipino mob through the streets of Roanapur
>ywn duck and fucking cover when the ex Spetznaz commandos go on the warpath and be on call to assist
>ywn make a HIND pilot deepthroat a torpedo while it's still in the air
>ywn stay up in a bar until dawn after a successful job, drinking Revy under the table
>ywn closely befriend Revy after proving your loyalty to her by not letting her die time and again
>ywn foster a romance that starts off as helping Revy gain back her sexual identity
>ywn fall in love with Revy having helped her work through her psychological issues
>ywn both save up money from jobs to move back to America, knowing a little more of your luck rubs away with each job and wanting to get out of the game before it runs out
>ywn settle down in a nice quiet town in the northeast, in a cute little house out of the way of everything
>ywn go on drives through the country roads with Revy, blasting Rednex and White Zombie
>ywn spend hours at the range with Revy just plinking away with cheap rifles and ammo
>ywn sit quietly on the couch and cuddle up with Revy under a blanket while you watch reruns of Mail call and Future weapons

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>>34613549

>>34613552
>ywn decide to start a family, both of you giving up the hard drinking for the child
>ywn make passionate, animalistic love to Revy, her grunting and moaning hard as she leg locks you from behind, sending violent shudders through her body as you fill her womb with your desire
>ywn hold Revy's hand as she crushes it with her death grip while she goes into labor, cursing your name in spite, begging the doctor to c-section her with a writing pen
>ywn deliver your firstborn son yourself, seeing Revy's face plastered with a beautiful mix of suppressed pain and love for you and your child
>ywn try for a daughter, and repeat the process, Revy being overjoyed when the ultrasound shows it's a girl, as you were when your first was a son
>ywn see your kids grow into spitting images of you and Revy
>ywn play Unreal Tournament classic as your son sits on your lap and watches you
>ywn look out into the yard and see Revy mock sparring with your daughter
>ywn take your kids to the range for the first time and introduce them to the family tradition
>ywn continue to cuddle under the blankets with your family, this time watching the original Thomas and friends on an old VHS
>ywn give your kids "the talk", you and Revy both trying to supress smiles thinking about all the drunken sex you and her have had before their time
>ywn send your kids off to college, leaving you and Revy alone with all the time in the world
>ywn resume the countryside drives, the range trips, the cuddling under the blanket and watching old tv shows and movies, just quietly holding eachother

>as your forehead is pressed against hers, you see a tear roll down her cheek and over that personally trademarked smirk of hers
>"whats the matter you big baby?" you ask
>she just flicks her eyes up to yours
>"I love you man, you've got me, forever, if you want."
>her smirk is infectious, same with her unyielding love for you
>you go on like this, the fire never dying, and nothing ever getting old

>>34613549
I don't need these feels anon...

>>34613579
what he said

>>34605642
I don't have time now, but I will later.

>yeeeee

>>34613272
What's the difference? I don't want either in close proximity to me.

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>>34613549
>>34613559

>>34599947
From amateurs to professionals. Nice

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more soon hopefully

>>34615958
Not sure what's going on on this pic, but I like it.

>>34616213
I expect gunshots and then lewds

>>34616634
are the lewds in this guy's story worth reading?

>>34616914
I think so

>>34616936
I'm a prude, and tend to skip lewds, so I dunno.

>>34616914
>not reading all the lewds
yes they are

>>34616936
>>34616943
>>34616979
I just don't want to cringe while reading poorly done lewds

>>34617192
Hard to tell, it's pretty subjective. Only way to know, is to read them.

>>34480065
I haven't forgotten, I'm still waiting.

Also, I wanna see more ¿Sha'dee? stuff if you're reading, colonel person.

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>ywn leave the vault into the wastes, your only companion a fully automatic RU-556.
>ywn slink your way through the countryside of a boston that's so ruined that it's completely post poz
>ywn stumble into the subway line seeking shelter from a constant and intense fight that occurs above the surfaces, sadly growing in intensity as you approach the city or maybe just generally the south end of the boston area.
>ywn find a horde of business casual mobsters in there, engaging them when they find you, and mowing your way through until you discover a vault, and moving in ward until you clear it.
>Ywn start engaging raiders, cannibals and addicts when they start pushing into the vault only hours after you wake up from your nap, prompting you to leave before daybreak.
>ywn wonder into the city, befriending a cute infirmary engineer after her previous companion ran off with the city's former reporter.
>Ywn spend weeks going from ruin to ruin with her, fighting raiders and helping traders and farmers with various pests of the commonwealth
>Ywn guard each other while you take turns sleeping, doing so even when you're in your condo in goodneighbor.
>She will never wake you in the middle of the night when she hears something of the basement.
>You will never dispatch two intruders who tried to invade your home from the basement to hell where they belong.
>You will never take guard and try to comfort Curie to sleep after she becomes too tightly wound to easily go to sleep.
Why?

>>34617737
This is almost to a t. what I am doing right now

Except my Ruger AR is in semi and I've got an M79 as backup

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>>34618512
Yeah. I've since moved on from the RU-556 to the AS VAL, and the M-3 greasegun. The FNX-45 Leviathan is my side arm and primary of choice is dictated by spur of the moment "would this be more advantageous?" assessment.

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>>34618558
is curie kill?

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>>34618660
no, in fact, she is in the feels post standing over the corpses of the home intruders in the basement of the goodneighbor condo. see>>34617737
She's a platinum blonde now. There are some great weapons mods like the VSS, Russian recon pack, FNX is pretty good, the grease gun is nice, I used to have the scar and the sturmgewehr, but the sturmgewehr is shall we say "graphics intensive" and often times anemic on the range, and the scar is just too anemic on the damage, so I got rid of those. But the ones I have now? DAMN.
Recently I've been stocking up on pictures for something, some of them with different iterations, like pic related. BTW, brotherhood fatigues best fatigues on Curie, or what?

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>>34618558
>as val
>not all american Ruger rifle primary, M1 Garand for long range, Browning HP/1911 sidearm and THUNK for support

>>34618791
Get Eli's armor compendium, there's a few medic related outfits that suit her very well, as well as a slew of accessories

http://www.nexusmods.com/fallout4/mods/22431/?

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>>34618802
>post 1950
>caring about garand
...Nah. I've seen and heard enough of it. Enough of the reverence for a whole lifetime and then some. Don't hear much about the VSS or AS VAL. Or what makes people drool over such seemingly mundane pistols (even if they are exotically Russian) as the MP412 and the MP443.
>>34618827
I certainly will, though I'm trying to keep it on the side of "tactical," retaining in her the look of someone who follows someone who shoots, stabs and beats his way through the wastes. I'll see if I can find something, but at this point, scolling through apparel is a bit tasking and I'm not going for the "sexy nurse" look. I know from firsthand experience that they aren't, as I've had my own personal run ins with them and a relative of mine happens to be a nurse.

Here, for reading through all that, have a darker iteration of the one from earlier.

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>>34618903
Huh, neat. I've got a few screens of a character I'm currently playing that I've decided is a chem-addicted mercenary that really, really hates the Brotherhood for no particular reason (the ooc reason is just because they're among the strongest human enemies and it's fun to fight them). Here's one with a bunch of shitty filters over it to hide the fact that my PC is a toaster.

>write while at work
>get paid to write

Am I a professional writefag now?

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>see all the falloutposting
>now wanting to mod the shit out of new vegas again and do one of those stupid picture story things
>he kind you see on plebbit all the time

>>34612847
thanks

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>mfw having a job keeps getting in the way of writing

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>>34622222
I know this feel. Also, nice digits.

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so I had an idea for a really god damn autistic apocalypse story that would put all the fuddlore zombie lore spergs to SHAME, it doesn't end THE WORLD, but more the normal state of being of one anon. Ye? Ney?

>>34622404
Go for it.

>>34622404
I too hate World War Z. Make it happen

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>>34622476
oh, it's nothing like that... it's just a whole new type of apocalypse that I seriously doubt anyone thought hard enough about to put on paper. It's SUPER AUTISTIC, and... you know what? pic related is how I hope to leave you, So I'll get right on that!

>>34622521
Well, explain a little?

>>34622792
Um... shitposting... becomes reality? I'm working on it... ok, I'm sperging out over night vision goggles, but yeah.

>>34622222
I'm looking for a job, but fear that this is going to be the case.

>>34622299
I hope it won't be the case.

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Free books n' discounts of my shit, /wfg/. Have at it if you like. The promotional period goes on until the end of Sunday, if you just want the free books but don't have a Kindle device you can get an app on your smartphone, I hear you can also get an app on your computer but I dunno how. Anyways, here's the link to my Amazon Author page.

www.amazon.com/author/jnmorgan

For details on what is free and what is discounted, you can check my website.

www.njmorgan7.wixsite.com/author

Even if you only get the free stuff, thanks for the help and the support! Firearm Valhalla was dedicated to /k/.Surprise surprise, there's a character named Ivan.

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Just thought I'd drop in and give you a picture that hit all the notes for me.

>Blonde Curie with M-16A1
I... I think I just came a little.

>>34623191
K then tripfag

>>34623191
That blond Curie doesn't look very good.

>>34623011
Will have a look

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Are you lurking barrett? I'm still waiting for an update, no matter how long it takes.

>>34623452
Thanks a lot, I'd love some feedback if you get the chance. You can email me at [email protected] Or of course if it's mostly positive feedback you could go ahead and leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads, just Saiyan. Cheers!

>>34613787
constructive criticism would be appreciated.

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shit gets done at incredibly slow speeds

JTfag is up to date
> https://pastebin.com/1qS4EqXS

not only new guys on the sticky but also added more description and tags
> https://pastebin.com/5yG5C9ek

guess what? also new anons on their folder
https://pastebin.com/CPUdepLW


>because i'll have a weird weekend work will halt to a crawl

>>34623011
>>34626956
20 downloads so far today. 14 'Living amongst the Dead', 6 'Firearm Valhalla.' Looks like I probably won't be reaching 100 downloads within 24 hours, but feels good none the less. Also, for luls, here is a feminist review I got for LatD. It's 2-stars.

>"Makes you wonder..."

I'm clearly not the target audience. You are the target audience if you enjoy:

1. reading detailed rape scenes- Richard told Tiffany that she was lucky that it was him, her rape experience could have been a lot worse if someone else had raped her instead, plus she owed him since she almost shot him ( ok that part's not cool) then he believes that he made a woman out of her.

2. abuse- Richard smacked Tiffany around every chance he got, If he's not doing it he's thinking about it, and thinking about it some more, and thinking about it some more If he's not thinking of raping or kicking her ass he's thinking about murdering her. Raping her wasn't payback enough for almost shooting her, duh.

3. Post rape cuddling- who does that? Richard, that's right!!

4. Dub-Con -Tiffany didn't "exactly" say no when she was playing possum, so he took that as a hell yeah!!
I get it, there probably would be rape in the zombie apocalypse, we just don't need EVERY SINGLE DETAIL of the rape of the bound woman.

5. Enjoy ridiculously repetitive weapon details- There were more weapon loading loading and ammo making scenes than there were actual zombies. Did this take place in a zombie ghost town? Where were they?

6. You completely have no respect for women at all and have woman issues of some sort.

7. Fickle idiots as main characters-Tiffany, you're not off the hook, she goes from being raped to begging for it within 24 hours with no protection and wanting to be a mother. Why doesn't anyone loot CVS and get some birth control of some sort. Who would want a baby in the middle of the zombie apocalypse with an abusive man that raped you yesterday?

Overall not an "awful" book, just not for me

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i am so sorry for what i am about to do

>>34627334
sounds ominous, should I open a bottle or call 112?

>>34627595
Both.

March 31 2018
>Ian stands at the window looking out on the neighborhood with the greatest of disdain as he thinks of the events of the last year. The anger of particularly the last three months welled up inside his mind.
"Fuck." The only word that comes to his mind.
>In another hour, Ian had showered and retired to bed. The sounds of nothing washing over the house, and for once, over his mind.

Awakening.
>Ian awakens, looking to his clock and seeing that it was 5:48 AM, an unusual time for him to be waking up to say the least. But that's not what really strikes him.
>As he looks to the clock, reading the hands, he finally remembers the difference in this picture.
"But... I don't have an Analog alarm clock."
>The black plastic alarm clock he was used to seeing, its lightly iridescent screen absent, in its place, an analog clock, hands ticking away at the seconds of the day.
>Ian stands from the bed, finding that the room he inhabits is not the same either. The walls ten feet apart in the square and symmetrical fashion that he was accustomed to was replaced by a large master bedroom, easily twenty by eighteen feet with eccentric geometrical features to the walls of the room, a bathroom within, complete with a shower and a bathtub, toilet and double sink.
>For the first thing, Ian found himself confused. For the next, he wondered... How?
>He'd gone to sleep in a small bedroom alone and woke in a master bedroom, looking around, finding the shoes he'd remembered wearing worn to ribbons among two other pairs, one looking new and another looking only moderately worn, along with a couple pairs of boots, one set of tactical boots, and one set of work boots.
>How could he have wound up there? Sure there were cases of sleep driving, but he'd never MOVED in his sleep... had he woke up in the middle of the night and then gotten blackout drunk? He'd Remember drinking though.
>Ian investigated the wardrobe of the house, finding a few things he recognized among it.

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>>34627334
[CONCERN INTENSIFIES]

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>>34627334
please let this be story related and not real life related

>>34628209
>>34628311
Do keep in mind it's just a name, not a proper tripfag. I could change my name on here to that just to troll. Hopefully it's just a troll.

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>>34628361
Well, it isn't a car photo. Hopefully story related.

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>>34627334
Please don't do that.

>>34628361
>>34628413
I use name and not trip because I have no idea how trips work. And I'll post many carfaces with the coming bit of story to prove I'm me I guess

>>34628620
Glad to hear everything's dandy. Don't go scarin' us like that with your suicidally suggestive post.

>>34628639
Come on now, it clearly said "not today"

Besides, I am in process of proving people wrong. My time is soon

I was just thinking, those of you who do lewds here should check out the /efg/ writethread over on /d/, it's pretty good and always in need of more writers

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Not the new fic, but felt like revisiting Hotline again to when the duo met. Enjoy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUBNjRILdkU

>February 19, 2400 hours
>This is Carol from the morgue. We are sorry for your loss of your grandmother. Please come to 3214 49 Drive to discuss burial preparations and options in cremation.

“That was the message passed to me on a cell phone left in my mailbox.”

“And now I stand in front of the door, unsure if I will end up being blown away from the getgo or complete what I was set out to do.”

“At least there will be no regrets in the end.”

“Knock, knock.”

>Smashing open the locked door handle, a large brutish figure wearing a boar mask holding a sledge hammer entered the morgue.

>The lights inside shone brightly, with sounds of footsteps from a room behind the front desk echoing

>Three punks emerged, giving a look of surprise.

>Moving towards them, the figure wound up the hammer, striking one in the head, splattering gore and leaving the first punk mangled.

>The sudden act of violence stunned the two others, their minds unable to grasp what just happened.

>Winding up with a follow-through, the figure slammed into the other punk, smashing the head of the hammer on his arm, shattering it and bringing him down.

>Grabbing the third punk by the collar of his shirt with one hand, the figure threw him down on the ground and slammed his foot on his skull.

>As the punk with the broken arm tried to crawl away, the figure lifted the hammer, delivering a downward blow to the back of his head, spraying brain tissue all over.

>Moving behind the door, there was nothing but an empty office, with nothing of value around

>Turning towards the main room, the figure found it to be deserted, save for various caskets around and a large set of two swinging doors.

>Moving towards the doors, a thumping was heard from one of the caskets.

>>34629045
>Smashing open the casket, a blond girls lying on a pile of guns pops up looking bewildered. Grabbing her, she turns into an AR-15 in the figure’s hands.

>He sets her back down gently, and motions to it to stay put or hide. As he moved away towards the double doors, the sounds of small feet could be heard as various guns of shapes and sizes made their way out quietly.

>Kicking the door open, the figure entered a stretch of hallway, with the elevator at the end. The doors along the side were locked, and the space devoid of life.

>Moving towards the elevator, the light above it flashed with the up signal, and a tell-tale noise that it was moving upwards towards him.

>Hiding at the side, the figure swung the sledge hammer at the head of a punk getting out. A second one was completely caught off guard, buying time for the figure to throw him to the ground and slam the hammer down on his head.

>With the punks dead, the figure moved into the elevator, heading to the basement.

>In the basement, the figure was greeted by three more punks in the hallway, looking as though they were waiting for the two that went up.

>Acting before the punks could respond to the gore soaked figure, he threw the hammer towards one, while charging in at the same time.

>The figure pulled out a large knife, stabbing it into the neck of one of the punks, and quickly punching the other one still up into the wall. Slumped against it, the last thing the punk saw was the boot of the figure.

>Pulling the knife out from the neck of one of the punks, the figure walked over to the one on the ground, and in a swift motion cleanly sliced his throat.

>>34629060
>Moving to the end of the hallway, knife in hand, the figure moves through the double doors onto a group of 5 punks ready to close the door on one of the incinerators.

>Two of them charge the figure immediately, while the three behind begin to close the door of an incinerator. The figure throws the knife, burying its blade in the neck of one of the three behind.

>Reacting to the two punks in front, the figure kicked one in the head, and quickly slammed his fist in the temple of the other, knocking him down.

>Running towards the two behind, the figure grabbed a scalpel the stabbed it one on of the punks’s eyes, and then pounded the other’s head into the wall of the incinerator.

>Quickly, the figure wrenched open the door of the furnace, and threw a girl out of there. She struggled with binds and a gag, of which the figure quickly removed.

>Once free, the girl immediately charged bolted out of sight and slammed into a punk from behind. Grabbing the blunt instrument he had, she repeatedly slammed it on his head.

>While the girl was attacking one of the punks, the figure made his way to the one eyed punk, on the ground reeling from the previous blow, and slammed his boot onto where the scalpel stuck out. Finishing with that one, the figure grabs one of the punks still alive, the figure throws him into the incinerator locking it.

>With a door suddenly opening with laughing punks coming out, their faces immediately turned to a look of horror.

>The girl, getting up from her victim, immediately began to charge again, with fury in her eyes as she tried to take a swipe at them. A larger figure then appeared, grabbing the blunt object the girl swung, leaving her completely exposed.

>From behind, the figure threw a punch at him before he could have full command of the weapon, sending him on the ground dazed.

>>34629076
>However, in his attempt to rescue the girl, a fist hit him at his side. But to the surprise of the punk the figure grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and tossed him into the other punks, sending them all down.

>With frightening speed, the figure slammed a knee hard into the large figure head, and grabbed his face, slamming the back of his head repeatedly against the wall, splattering gore from behind.

>Grabbing the freed weapon, the girl begins to attack the other punks furiously, raining blow after blow, with fury in her eyes and tears streaming.

>Soon after, the figure gets up, and finishes off the remainder of those still on the ground. Standing back up after pulverizing the last punk, he sees the girl still going at it on one of the punks. He places a hand on her shoulder.

>The girl was breathing hard with tears rolling down her eyes. No more threats remained, and the room was silent, save for the sounds of an incinerator.

>Nothing remained in the room. The figure saved all he could, feeling all the more angry inside that he didn’t arrive soon enough.

>With the girl in tow, they walk back to the elevator, and up to the main floor. Sheparding the guns previously in the casket, he moved them into his van and drove off towards the drop off point.

>At the drop off, a man and a small girl in coyote masks were waiting for him.

“Hope the funeral wasn’t too hard on you, Boar.” Said the man in the coyote mask.

“This was all that she left. Bunch of the family members took away with too many for my tastes.” Replied Boar.

“It won’t get easier, Boar. This I can tell this is your first go, so take my advice and be glad you got something out of it.”

>>34629111
>Making the exchange, the guns Boar was able to save moved into the back of Coyote’s truck. All expect one. Standing by his van, the girl Boar saved from the incinerator earlier that night leaned up against it, giving an air she refusing to join the others.

“Hey, ‘yote. You take off, I think I’m gonna keep this one here.”

“Suit yourself, Boar. You look like you could use a gun anyway.”

“Take good care of her, Sir.” Said the girl in the coyote mask. And with that, the two coyotes moved into the truck and began to drive off.

>Moving towards the girl, Boar grabs a pack of cigarettes from his plate carrier.

“You look like you could use one.”

>She gives a grunt.

>Boar grabs two cigarettes, and offers one to the teenage girl. She takes his offering, while he pops one in his mouth, lights his and gives her a light. Looking at her, Boar becomes amused that his new partner is sporting what looks to be boar-like ears from her unkempt hair and a tail.

“You speak English?”

“Da.”

“So, what rifle are you? Packed quite the punch back there.”

“I am no rifle. I am Vepr-12.”

“That explains it.”

>She continues to stand and smoke.

“Well, since you’re gonna be my gun, and that you’re already battle tested, think you deserve a name.”

>Boar flicked his cigarette, and moved towards the driver’s seat.

“Well, coming in, Viveca?”

>Still looking blurry-eyed, Viveca dropped her cigarette.

“Da.”

And I hope you all enjoyed. Here is the pastebin
https://pastebin.com/HFR9qieX

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>>34629116
Short and sweet, very nice.

>>34627670
>After a small degree of investigation he found that everything in there appeared to fit him, much of it better than the items he recognized as parts of his own typical wardrobe.
>Ian chose a set of clothes, an old shirt that had Fender's Emblematic Stratocaster guitar adorned across the front and a set of shorts, a set of lightly worn shoes, and made his way to the front door.
>Looking outside, he wasn't surprised, though he was too tired and wasn't alert enough to think anything of the difference in his surroundings. He recognized none of it, which would be exactly par for the course if he was blackout drunk, but... this was a step up from any of his friends who might allow him to stay over. No one he drank with was a woman, and in fact, he'd never been under the influence around a woman, which ruled any of his friends out. Further ruling out the possibility that it was any of his friends was the fact that he woke in an obvious master bedroom in what seemed to be relatively large upscale housing, as opposed to on a couch in a particularly slummy part of town. Come to think of it, he had to have lived around here... right?
>Looking around the neighborhood, he saw that all the houses had flag poles in their front yards, and that one couple had already raised their flag, and had began what appeared to be a morning walk, happening to be coming in his direction from about a hundred and seventy-five feet away.
>Looking at their flag, furling in the wind a little too hard to get a good look, he sensed something vaguely... off about it.
>Standing in the sun, a hot wind blowing on his shoulder, Ian felt good.
>Clarity came to Ian's mind as he began to hear a voice calling out to him
>"...Ian? Ian, you feeling alright?"
"Huh?" Ian asked, looking at the two on the street, having apparently reached him while he was tuned out to the feeling of the heat.
>"We were beginning to worry about you."
"Say, we know each other from somewhere?"

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>”Uhm…. I sort of forgot it”
“Then I am afraid I cannot lend you a car”

>your world collapses in front of your eyes by the polite words of the German

>”I-I swear I have one, sure you can't contact-”
“I am very sorry, mister, but the rules does not allow me to lend you a car unless I have your physical driver's license to see”
>”I understand, but the case

“EEEEEXCUUUUUUUSE ME”

>You turn your head around and see Mrs. Want-to-see-manager

“If ya’ll don't have any business here, you better get outta my way, and stop wasting everyone's time!”

>Annie makes a low, hissing sound
>Probably the best imitation any human could do of the gun breech of an ISU-152 assault gun slamming shut
>Oh how you wanted to slam her face into the cold and shiny stone floor and paint it red with the inside of her he'd while her children were watching

>But that would of course be impossible, as sad as that was
>Instead Annie takes the wheels and rolls the wheelchair a few meters away
>she must have sensed you were very close to doing something stupid
>you follow her, instead of wasting one more breath on speaking to Mrs. Cuntsalot

We tried…
>”No. Stop. None of that. I'm not giving up”
“What can we even do anymore?”
>”If we can't rent a car… I'll buy us one”

>You find a row of benches, roll Annie over and sit down
>fire up that cell phone, massive payment for data be damned
>Google: German used cars website
>Filter: Working vehicles only
>Place: close to my location
>Sort: Price, Ascending

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Anon…
>”Don't worry, I'm looking at cars right now”
Yeah, but-
>”No worries. We will take a taxi there and-”
Anon! Please…
>”Sorry, I'm just stressed. What is it honey?”
I… i can't feel my feet
>”We will have you in Switzerland by tomorrow, I swear”
I don't have long now. Please, if something happens, promise me-
>”No. Were not doing that now. And I've found us a car. Come, we're getting a taxi”

[Unknown Munich suburb, 20:27]

You should have asked if he spoke English beforehand
>”Uhh…”

>You had just lost out on a light blue 1987 VW Golf CL
>It had more miles than steam locomotive and less power than the average ceiling fan
>But the guy only wanted 250 euros for it

>of course, it was very difficult to have any sort of conversation with him because of the language barrier
>So that went down the drain
>Now the sun had started setting in this unknown new land, and you kept looking for any form of transportation

>”I'm so sorry I screwed this up Annie. I was stressed, scared, and i didn't think enough. And it goes to you now. I fuck up and you get hurt”
You try your best...
>”I need to step my game up. Because the best girl in the world is getting away from me. My best isn't-”
Wait. Stop.
>”What?”
Just now, what did you call me?
>”The best girl in the world?”
Ah…

>Annie remains quiet for a few seconds

Anon…?
>”Yeah?”
You think you can hold me for a minute?

>You don't reply
>Just walk around the chair and pick her up, and sit down on the sidewalk with her in you lap
>And hold her
>Tighter than you have before
>Closer
>Your eyes stay closed for a few moments, just taking her in
>The beat of her heart
>The scent of her hair

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>When your eyes open, an older man, probably in his early 60s stands and look at you
>You scoff a little and jokingly shout at him

>”Selling your car, old man? I need one”
“This one, no”

>to your great surprise, he turns to you and answers, while giving a light pat on the bonnet on the car he is standing by

>”I'm sorry to bother you, I was joking and didn't think you would understand me”
“But you do need a car?”

>Annie keeps holding you, feeling how this conversation is for jest more than anything

>”I do. Ehem, we do. Annie here needs to get to Switzerland as soon as possible”
“Blitz honeymoon?”
>”I'm wish. Medical reasons”
“How much… gelt do you have?”
>”500 minus the taxi here”

>The old man sighs

“Ein Traum stirbt, so kann ein anderer leben…”
>”What?”
“Come with me, and take your wife with you”

>You pick up Annie in a Princess carry
>Her legs feel… different. Not the soft you have been used to. It's something else
>She whimpers a little from the pain, but doesn't complain
>he walks by a mid 90s silver Mercedes and towards a garage

>His entire garden, the little there is, has perfectly trimmed grass
>some flower beds, also very neatly arranged
>The garage doors slide open, without any creeking at all
>Hinges must be well oiled

>You can set Annie down on a large workbench
>once again, very clean, tidy and neat. And all that
>It’s a two car garage. One of the slots was empty, probably where the Mercedes would be parked
>Next to it, something small, covered by a tarp

“My wife will be over-enjoyed…” The man said, as he ripped the tarp of the little car “This is the last vestige of my youth”
>Under the rarp, a car that once must have looked great, but was now run down now

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“1983 Alfa Romeo GTV6”
>”Whoa…”
”Bought this off the line in 83, when i worked with the Luftverteidigungsdiesel”
>”The what?”

>The man chuckles softly to himself

“Never mind that. 300 And it’s yours”
>”Does it work?”
“Yes”
>”Done”

T-thank you so much, mister. It means the world to me. Us

>Annie is completely shocked
>Immediately, you get your wallet and get the man the money he needed
>Just before he is about to take them, some shouting is heard from the house
>The man responds and looks at the half crumpled banknotes you’ve had in your back pocket for a while

“That all you have?”
>”Well, not exactly…”

>He takes a step back and points at the car

“Get in, get out. And don’t scratch Mercedes. I’m having white asparagus for dinner”

>You’re absolutely stunned, staring at him as he rolls the tarp up
>When he finished, he lowers his rimless glasses a little and look at you

“You both look rather stupid now. if you drool on the floor, you have to clean it up”

>Without really being able to say anything, you nod and run back out to the big duffel bag and stuff it in the back of the old Coupe
>The man stays and looks at you until you’ve liften Annie into the passenger's seat and very carefully driven out past the other car
>Last, you’re given a few papers simply saying the car is yours
>And with that, the man returns to his house for a dinner with his wife
>You're left outside, still as shocked as Annie is

He can't be serious…

>”Sorry, you're more important” you tell her and speed off
>for the next half hour,you mumble incoherently and Annie stays silent while trying to get out of Munich and find the Autobahn heading south
>You wanted to give Annie the phone to try and look for the best route, but her fingers had gone awfully stale and she could barely move them
>At this point she was pretty much reduced to something that could do nothing but sit down and speak

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[Bundesautobahn 96, westbound. A few miles outside of Munich. 19:25]

>A decision was to go west south-west at first, following the A96
>It was heading towards Bodensee, the largest lake in germany, but more importantly, the Austro-German border
>Here, you would normally go to friedrichshafen and take the derry directly into Switzerland, just to deal with one border crossing less
>But the last ferry had left for the night, meaning you had to drive through a small bit of Austria

>”Annie?”
Mhm…

>her voice was weak and whimpering

>”We’re just a few hours out. We’re in Austria in just half an hour. Just hold out a little more. Can you do that for me?”

>one, two and three times she tries to speak
>But she can't say anything
>nothing at all
>She takes a deep breath to try and speak, but nothing else than hoarse, pained coughs
>You reach with your right hand, and gently caress her thigh
>An attempt to be reassuring?
>to tell her you was there?
>She does manage to move her own hands and very weakly grab yours
>once again, a far cry from what it used to be. No where near strong enough to lock it in place like it used to be

“Just a few more hours, Annie. Please stay with me a little more”

>The reply she manages is little more than a hum, a breath
>And Annie gets worse with every passing mile
>Her little whines and whimpers got more frequent as you closed the Austrian border
>The passing was… completely uneventful
>A well dressed man in a booth looked at your passport, and then at Annie’s, pressed a button and you could leave Germany on a wave of V6 howling
>The car is at highway speeds again, and the howling settles down to a growl
>Your hand is once again turned to Annie’s lap
>She tries as best she can to get a grip on your hand
>But it’s not much
>Very soon after entering Austria, you drive into a tunnel
>A 5 mile tunnel, taking you under some city or another, didn’t matter much

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>But very soon after entering the tunnel, some concerning signs appear
>Cars parked, squeezed up against the right side wall
>And people running backwards, towards the north entry you came from
>You roll down the windows, but all shouting is in german, so you don’t really know what’s going on

>”Anyone know what’s going on?!”

>As you shout, a family of four jogs past the old Alfa
>The man waves his hand, clearly signaling you to turn away
>But turning around wasn’t an option, this was part of a motorway still

>Annie tries to hum something, but it is mostly inaudible

>another half mile, and someone answers what you are asking
>It’s a roadblock up ahead
>Cars flipped over
>People being aggressive and throwing things

“They are crazy! Turn around, you won’t get through!” the man shouts

>Your fists are turned white from clenching the wheel

>”Shit…”
Anon…
>”No! Noo! We’re getting through this!”

>You shouted that, and floored the throttle, almost through the floor
>further up, some black smoke was collecting in the ceiling of the tunnel
>Another few minutes of driving, and the you see what it is all about
>A dozen men, shouting in a language you didn’t understand
>but it sure as hell wasn’t german
>A big SUV lay on the road, slowly burning
>two, or three people lay in front of it
>And a half dozen men screaming around it
>A few cars stood around
>If you moved that little roadster out of the way, you could probably get through

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>”Shit, we have to find another way. Please hold on for me Annie. Just a few hours, i promise i will-”

>At that moment, you moved the gear lever right and down for reverse
>The gearbox, however, wasn’t at all happy with this and made a sound not too unlike a gearbox exploding
>Probably because it did
>The entire car shook as the gearbox disintegrated, threw little pieces all over the road and covered it transmission fluid
>this caught the attention of everyone
>The six men looked up at you, and two of them started moving towards the car

>”Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Don’t worry Annie, i got you”
N-no. Stop. No more. i can’t even move and even breathing is hard now

>They men were maybe 150 meters away now

>”Do NOT give up now!”
My job is to protect you Anon… never forget i love you?
>”Stop!”

>Her voice was pained, just speaking hurt her so much tears fas building up in her eyes
>not saying much, yours was panicking

It’s a tunnel, so you gonna have to make some earpro…
>”Annie, for the love of god, i can save you”

>you run out of the old car, and rip up her door, probably breaking something in the process
>Clip up her seat belt, and receive a hard shove in the stomach
>As a last defiant act, she takes two steps of her own, almost falling over
>And then an embrace

It’s my time to save you. One clip, make it count. I love you

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>And before you can say or do anything, you are no longer embracing a woman, but a very familiar rifle
>from deep in your shock, you can hear the men shouting in the distance
>They did this
>slowly, all your others rolled away in favor of hatred and hatred alone
>suddenly, the 50 lbs rifle feels featherlight
>you heave it up on the roof of the ruined Alfa Romeo, letting the bipod legs dig into the aluminium roof
>dig around in your pocket for some paper, you find something
>could be a receipt, a banknote, a tissue
>you had no idea
>it was torn in two, chewed and sloppily shoved in your ears

>Annie wanted to protect you
>And she got hurt
>They did this
>They hurt Annie
>You would show them exactly what happened if you hurt Annie

>the two were heading towards you, now at 50 meters or less
>but, instead of walking side by side, like one would normally do, the smaller man walked behind the bigger one
>to take cover
>if you had fired paintballs at them, it would have been a viable tactic
>but it appears these men were too busy growing bears to read up on what “Armor piercing” was

>The trigger falls
>the muzzle flash is blinding and your eardrums cry in pain from the sound of the blast bouncing of the walls as the PTRS screams out its hatred for the whole world
>But no matter how much the rifle kicked your shoulder or screamed in your ear, it was nothing compared to what it did on the other end of the barrel
>just as expected of an armor piercing projectile weighing six times as much as a .308 and going a lot faster, the results on the receiving end was absolutely devastating
>There wasn’t much left of the first man’s torso in front, and even less of the man behind him
>fueled by adrenaline and hatred, you walk tall towards the remaining men, rifle held high

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>they were screaming
>out of fear?
>hatred?
>to try to intimidate you?
>you would probably never find out
>Another man was hit by an armor piercing 14.5mm projectile
>His fate was the same as anyone hit by a round like this
>You didn’t hear the casing hit the ground, because your ears were ringing
>As soon as your eyes had adjusted to the lower light level in the funnel from the muzzle flash, the rifle sang again
>It turned the man on the receiving end to a red mist

>Normally you would have complained about the weight of the gun
>The recoil
>The blinding muzzle flash
>The eardrum-shattering noise
>But not today

>Today, right now there is only hatred
>they did that

>You cough heavily as the next round leaves the barrel
>The rifle slams into your shoulder yet again like a kicking stallion
>The man on the receiving end falls to the ground, dead about the same time the shell casing hits the floor
>You only see one left, hiding behind the car
>The SUV he was hiding behind was tall enough to not hide his feet
>You aim somewhere where you think his center of mass is

>One fourth time, the trigger falls
>The screaming at somewhere in front of you tell you something has been hit
>You walk up to the burning SUV at a brisk pace
>There is a person behind it
>And one thing that once was a person

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>The one that was still alive sees you
>the burning hatred in your eyes
>the gigantic gun

>he reaches for something
>you had no idea what, but you point the gun at his general direction and pulls the trigger
>the round didn’t hit, but the blast from the muzzle was massive, and lie lied down, covering his ears and screamed

>He brought this upon himself
>he did this
>he hurt Annie

>Something in him forced himself to try and get up, lift himself off the road
>the animal that had grown in you the last minute doesn’t give him one chance
>the underside of your shoe meets his face with all the might you leg could muster

>And just like that, the animal dies
>Your hands start shaking
>you throat gets dry

>”Annie, you can get out now”
>”...”
>”Come on Annie, they are gone now”
>”Please, you did save me, come and look…”
>”I’m right here”
>”Please, Annie”
>”Annie…”