/wfg/ Writefag General: Strange Room edition

Writer here, I've been busy writing about my week. According to my woman I live a regimented life, she's correct, it's by design, but not just what I do while I'm on auto-pilot but also what I'm feeling throughout the day. Try it man, huge eye opener, just takes a lot of honesty with yourself to write down what you are thinking, feeling and doing in the moment but you'll get a lot of it. Just wanted to share with my fellow writefag Jow Forumsommandos, the other boards in here suck too much cock and smoke too much weed to be objectionablly self-reflective on themselves.

>having a woman

Heh, heh, yeah user...

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Honestly, she's just a chick that I fuck, she wants more but I just don't care and I can do so much better. I told her I'm planning on moving out of here once a jobs hits, but whatever.

Frankly, he does seem kinda one dimensional. He has progressed to being somewhat invested in fate of Jia, instead of just the money.

That said, I'm not sure it's really a bad thing. He is a vessel with which you show us an allegory for some our real world struggles. He doesn't need to be dynamic because he isn't really the focus.

That's never been my thing, I really want a relationship with emotional stability.

Matthews and the glowniggers jumped our boys all those years ago. That's one hell of a plot twist. But why? And why is he fucking around with psychoactive drugs now?

This is really getting good.

Honestly, same here, I'm in my 30's, I'm ready to settle down again but I want to get the fuck out if this liberal hellhole and get a job back home first. The sad truth is I'm horny from training which is causing me to head out to bars to find chicks, I hate that so much so I'm settling with her once a week to go to a nice dinner and bang. I'd rather do this then bars, I'm so fucking over going out but I gotta have sex and some human contact, it's making me weird being in solitude with schoolz training and work. I wrote this all down, it's for the better for me and I'm compromising, but it keeps me out of worse situations and her company is nice for the time, but once I move, we'll be done and I'll try to find a wife again. Also, this chicks hates guns, lol, doesn't stop me from talking about them, again, just lonely and horny.

I think I mentioned it somewhere in Don's or Parks's arc but about four years have passed between the convoy incident and the events of the main story.

>you mean, no one is actually reading my stories?

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they should really put it in a pastebin anyway, and drop the link at thread start

I think that the majority of authors already put their stories in pastebins or similar storage mediums, but already seeing some stories posted can help aspiring authors to start writing.

What have your written user? I'll read it.

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Anymore of that weird twilight zone esq, stuck at work story from the end thread? I really like the unsettling feeling from it.

I need some medfags to help me out here.

Where would be a harmless place to get shot by #8 birdshot? As in, enough to maim someone enough.

the shin most likely

I absolutely loathe how that one pilot is standing with his feet turned in like some prancy faggot piece of shit. Fuck him.

Wouldn't they bleed to death?

not if you bind it, besides the femoral is up in the thigh

So, Joel ripping that dude's kneecap open in The Last of Us wouldn't have killed him like in the game?

Well, shit.

I dunno, I ain't a med-fag. All I know is bind the wound and stop the bleeding and as long as it isn't a shredded femoral then you'll be good to go, just a shin short

Oh, cool!

Hey guys, in two days it'll be the official one year anniversary for the Us Lucky Few universe!

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nice

Depending on distance. If it's a straight blast from contact it MIGHT kill you in the leg, bug 8 shot will pretty quickly become less than lethal to a human at distance. Ugly? Painful? YES, DEAR GOD, YES! Lethal? Probably not. anyway, I've been inspired. Also the arm is just about the least lethal place to take a bullet, in case you were wondering. You can TOTALLY bleed to death out of an arm, and god help you if it's blown off. BUT, taking a shot to the arm is the lowest probability of fatality

pastebin.com/29JHajE8

another parks update. spent about the entire night at work on this one.

I binned my story for anyone who wasn't around to see it being posted live or is new to the thread.

Old Breed
pastebin.com/wNDFrrdu

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The popliteal artery isn't as big as the femoral artery. Also, it depends if the limb is severed vs mangled. A severed limb's muscles spasm and contract tight, acting like it's own tourniquet. mangled limbs just bleed forever. If you had to get shot, probably the foot. I saw one dude who shot himself in the foot with a .38, and it was like he just stepped on a pencil or a nail or something. they were like 'oh no, that sucks' and sent him home with a boot and some tylenol.

bump

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Yee, happy early anniversary!

Holy shit. This is big fucking stuff. And finally explains what the hell happened with that truck way back. Cool beans.

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Hey, about to repost something I posted on /ic/

Lots of exposition here, unfortunately most of it is necessary but please hang in there since I'm trying to get something specific

I have a specific vision in mind for a drawing and I was wondering whether any of you had any reference art that fits. The drawing is for a story I might turn into a video game with RPGmaker or something. Keep in mind, this is a post apocalyptic sci fi story and it's in the very beginning stages.

Anyway, the gist of it is that the Earth is on its last leg. The Earth's climate control/defense system is failing, and as the planet slowly freezes, the supercomputer that once controlled the Earth's defense system has now gained sentience and is in the long process of activating the system's kill switch. In the distant future, Earth freezes over. The oceans have almost completely risen above large cities that arent frozen over, and as the climate/defense system is failing, the remains of humanity are rushing to solve the problem. A scientific coalition has been collaborating non-stop for the past 500 years to find lost data on genetics and modifying them by painstakingly scouring the underwater cities.

Pretty much what happens is that they finally find all the information they need. The reason they need it is to basically engineer a human life form to be able to survive the harsh environment of the massive underground supercomputer complex that houses the kill switch. They gotta destroy it.

This is where my vision comes in. In the story, the scientists create a bionic life form from a pre-existing human so he can venture into the complex.
[1]

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My character is a bionic human which is the expedient work of a scientist who barely has the resources nor the time. I want it to look sort of post-apocalyptic with a bit of sci-fi cool stuff, but most importantly I want it to have a small resemblance of the human it once was. The thing is though, I can't have this looking like some space age cyborg, nor can I have it looking like a rusty toaster on wheels. I'd prefer to veer towards the "post-apocalyptic" side, though.

I made a mock up in Paint that took me about 30 minutes or so. Although there are a few things that I think fit, ultimately, I think it looks too sci-fi and not enough "this is all we had to work with". The part that most fits my vision, though, is the arm with the shotgun and exoskeleton. The tank is the artificial respiratory system, and the golden rings on the armor are "electrical dissipators" that send received electric shocks to an external battery which in turn powers the suit.

The character has a few biological functions replaced with autonomous ones, like the respiratory system, the brain, and a few of the senses. Beyond that, I'd like the character to keep some of its human attributes even if they're not entirely human. Maybe artificial skin, but the muscular system needs to stay.

What happens to the character is that his brain is removed and his "brain program" is transferred to the autonomous part of the cybernetic being. Also, since this is post-apocalyptic, and sci-fi, he has a shotgun on his arm supported by an exo-skeleton. There are no lasers or big giant 20mm wrist cannons since those have been lost from the Earth freezing, so barely any weapons remain.

[2]

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One of my inspirations for this was the part in Earthbound where Dr. Andonuts transfers the party's body into robots since they can't explore the cave of the past in their human forms. Another inspiration is Fallout in general. Also, someone mentioned a game called Primordia and the protagonist kind of fit my vision, but was too robotic. I'll post some inspirations

tl;dr I need a reference for a post-apocalyptic sci-fi bionic human design that matches my vision and story. I'm not asking for anyone to draw it for me, but I can't find exactly what I'm looking for. If anyone knows like a video game or a drawing that sounds similar, that would be fantastic

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I pretty much explained all of this because I knew someone would probably come in and say the bionic human thing is stupid without context

I really like the design of the raider power armor but I want something like that scaled down and a bit less scrappy

Also the first image is my MSpaint thing if you didn't notice

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Also, here's my trip

one thing that I will say is that the water level would actually recede if the Earth was freezing but your concept is pretty solid overall

I didn't want people thinking this was a shitty statement on climate change. The frozen thing is a placeholder but I'll find another reason why the sea is risen. Thanks for the critique, friend

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>tfw still waiting
ill wait as long as it takes senpai, just come back.....

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Does anyone have chapter two of "A Zone of Confort"? Archive shows it's been missing for at least a little over a year now.

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I think chapter 3 is chapter 2. At least, it picks up right after the blowout, but something could be between that.

This please.

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hm... I guess that was a casualty of the type of story I was writing. If you had to describe Hiro, how would you? what do you guys think about the other characters like Peng or Hei Bai?

is that a famas bump

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I'd sum up Hiro as the standard jaded mercenary type. He's got the hard childhood, followed by the jading that comes with the amounts of combat he's seen. He's got no faith in ideologies, and so he works for the money now. That said, he is getting invested in Jia's future, inspired by his past experience with the Earth Kingdom.

Probably I'd say that Hei Bai is my favorite as far as uniqueness goes. The other characters have their moments, but they are also kinda one dimensional. Again this isn't neccesarily bad. I think it works well in this circumstance.

Hei Bai, as I mentioned, seems like the most dynamic. His job narratively is to serve as a vessel for the will of the Jian government and your message. He's equal parts character and plot device. You'd hinted that there was more to him through the story, but we finally saw what that was in the last section.

That's the sum total of what I could give you, since I'm not even an amateur literature critic.

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That sounds about right. I was hoping for Du Lin to be a sort of embodiment of the Water Tribe ambitions. A sort of proxy for Gamal Nasser and Ian Smith.
Most of the stories I write tend to have a protagonist that is living in 'bad faith' and feature an antagonistic 'Choronzon' (Hei Bai) who confronts or manipulates the main character to reach a higher level of understanding.

Good point on Du Lin, she does seem like that when I read this story.

You're lucky that I really enjoy those sorts of stories. Probably why I've liked this so much.

It also helps that the Cold War is my fetish.

I'm just happy to have any fans

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And now for some shit I just typed straight into the comment field with no forethought or editorial proofreading. Enjoy.

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DATELINE JULY 12 2017
INSURRECTION PERIOD.
>An unseasonable rain swept the hills in which Adder team was holed, taken up with observing San Diego for what team leader Irving Bryant was briefed to believe was the single most unethical weapons test in history, even considering the uncomfirmed rumors that'd echoed though history from the battle of fort Pitt.
>The members of the team welcomed the rain for its cooling effects, despite the already somewhat lower temperatures present in the hills, hundreds of feet higher than the ground on which the city was built.
>As summer rains tend to, this one battered at the team, falling harshly upon them as though it were to pelt them to death.
>Nick, the spotter and JTAC for this test of weaponry, felt that this must've been the simplest of the operations onto which he'd been sent.
>Go to the hills over San Diego like some dumb tourist, bring in your equipment concealed, you'll get suppressed MK18 Mod2s and your Custom integrally suppressed pistols just in case you run into the roving gangs of commie faggots and you get to listen to 104.1 THE HAWK and 920AM the vine while passing through the valley on the way to the hills.
>Val Looked on through his own spotting scope at the city below, which had been left spotless, as the US Army didn't make it that far to the south JUST YET.
>"Hey, Staff Sergeant, what the fuck are we dropping here anyway?"
>"It's... gonna be really anti climactic, I'll let you know after it drops."
>"I don't believe that shit for a second. Or they wouldn't be dropping it on a city of live people. Let ALONE a stronghold like San Diego. this better be some effective shit or we're wasting time here."
>"Wasting or not, it's our orders. And we're gonna do it."
>"Alright."
>John fiddled silently with the radio for several seconds before he caugth a signal. Quiet Riot started playing loud enough to be heard, but not much more than that.
youtu.be/kMEz4cFMlZE

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tl:dr cont.I'm running out of ready text and while I do have an idea of how to end this story, I can't seem to push myself to just sit down and do it.
So, expect the quality and update frequency to go down.
Anyway:

>While Blue squad was checking the boxes, chasing shadows and trying not to look at anything that could kill them, other platoons were busy with their own tasks.
>And while they didn’t have to deal with cognitohazards of their own and had no murderous xeno
>Red has just finished disabling the engine rooms, effectively killing the mobility of the vessel and was now on their way back to exfil zone.
>Green provided everyone with constant updates on enemy movements through the ship for as long as they could, until massed counterattack forced them to retreat.
>They were now chilling inside a dropship, loitering about, ready to redeploy if needed.
>Grey encountered strong resistance, took some casualties and required assistance from Gold squad.
>Together they were about to breach into the conning deck and hopefully find the anwsers they were looking for.

>Captain Jackson took direct command over both platoons and was now figuring out a way inside.
>Data provided by portable scanners and EAR surveillance indicated a lot of hostiles inside, all armed and ready to defend their position.
>There were only 3 gates leading inside, all defended by security checkpoints.
>The disorganized defenders and outside gates were not that difficult to overcome and were already dealt with.
>But the massed firepower waiting for them inside and the very defendable chokepoints were definitely a bother.
>The reinforced blast doors blocking their path were another problem.
>Entire ship section was on manual lockdown and overriding it from outside was simply impossible.
>Breaching them by force was possible, but according to scans and specialist’s estimations they only had enough charges between them to open up one gate.
>Maybe two, but they couldn’t guarantee that.
>This ruled out an option of multi-point insertion.
>He checked the surrounding area once more.
>There was a breach to the command hub; one of the rooms in there got grazed by shrapnel from Wildfire’s cannons and as a result got decompressed and sealed off.
>However the only way to get there would be to go outside and follow through the shell’s entry cavity.
>And they just didn’t have time to do so.
>Just as he was about to accept the inevitable losses accompanying direct assault, one of the marines contacted him.
>He claimed to have an idea.

The commando fought towards his extraction point. Although he was outnumbered, he refused to surrender. He was less than a mile from the extraction point when he heard a faint clicking sound come up from beneath him. He realized, too late, that he'd just stepped on a landmine. The explosion torn his foot to shreds and left him crying in pain on the ground. His shrieks of agony revealed his position to the enemy; soon he was surrounded on all sides by masked gunmen. They tried to patch up his wounds and take him back to their camp for interrogation, but he'd already lost too much blood. He died within an hour.

> -Are you sure it will work?-
> -I’m only sure of death and taxes, Sir.-
>The marine explained.
> -But I’m fairly certain it’ll work, yes.-
>Jackson once again checked the projection.
>The plan, indeed seemed doable. He turned to the other member of the squad.
> -Hetzer, you sure you’re up for this?-
> -Absolutely sir. I know the risk, but I believe I can do this.-
>The grenadier called Hetzer answered.
>This entire plan hanged on his person. And also on the launcher he carried.
> -Alright. Let’s go with it.-
>He said after a while.
>Having taken a decision he reached for his radio set and started directing his men:
> -Gold 2 and 3, take position in the hallway leading to Gate 2. Grey squad, pick up the security. Get the breachers to set the charges on that door. Hetzer, get ready with that launcher.-
The soldiers moved to position.
>Remnants of Grey platoon were covering the approaches and securing the rear.
>Assault teams from Gold squad formed in the hallway leading to the bridge.
>A couple of troopers were planting the breaching charges at the armored gate, ready to blow it right open.
>A lone grenadier stood beside them, fondling with his launcher.
>Coordinator Jackson observed it all with attention.
>When the charges were set, the demolitionists rejoined their teams and closed the outer door.
>The technician made sure they were locked airtight.
>When everything was in place, commander Jackson pressed the button.

>A series of blazes started dancing on the surface of the blast door.
>When they went out, the main explosives detonated and tore the barrier open.
>The explosion blast was violent, but the lone marine managed to stay on his feet.
>Before the sound of explosion even started dying down, the hallway was filled with laser fire.
>Even though they were fired blind due to the smoke blocking the vision, the sheer volume of fire was enough to score few hits on Hetzer.
> -ABRA KADABRA, FUCKERS!-
>He yelled and pulled the trigger, launching the missile.
>The warhead boldly lunged into the hail of fire, through the shroud of smoke and hit the wall of the command center.
>As the fuse struck the hard surface, a shaped charge detonated and blasted a hole through the thin internal wall.
>The wall separating the still functioning command post, from the breached and depressurized section.
>The hole made by the warhead was relatively small, but the force enacted on the wall by the atmosphere inside ripped it right in half.
>Within a fraction of a second all crew, guns, loose bits and pieces of gear and anything that wasn’t nailed down to the floor was sucked out into space.
>Hetzer was thrown forward, but the anchor line tightened and held him in place.
>He looked down on his chassis and counted at least few dozen burned holes.
>The loss of power in his left leg, several dead sensors and spilling lubricant ensured him that his state could easily be considered critical.
> -Oh well. Too bad. Gonna need new husk.-
>He dropped the launcher, made sure to safely disengage main processing unit and memory bank, set the scuttling protocol off and detached his head from the rest of his wrecked body.
>Last thing he registered before shutting down was the rest of the squad entering the command room

>"Nick, Pick a structure in the most build up part of town. Ideally we'd get one in Colina Del Sol, but lets just go for the most metropolitan area. it'll be well within the effective range. John! scan the tac net."
>The two men set about their tasks, eventually John picked up on the US Army tactical net.
>Chatter streamed through among the background noise of casualties occurring in the San Francisco area. In Los Angeles, some code blacks were occurring, A broken arrow was being called in the south end of the besieged city.
>Irving was perturbed by these reports, but as much as he was disturbed by them, he had to give the communist militias credit, with some shit stolen from the military and the help of some increasingly faggified splinter factions that grew within the US military like tumors, they'd managed to grind the advance of big army into the cities to a tedious crawl.
>Nick stood in awe hearing the chatter on the radio.
>"Alright, John, get off big armies comms and bring me the radio."
>"Coming your way, bud."
"Hey, I got a map, you're gonna like this one, Nick." Irving called.
>"What you got?"
"Okay." Irving started as he brought his map in front of Nick "You see that greenspace there?"
>"yeah?"
"That's the Mission Trails regional park. Now if you point your designator about right THERE..." He said, pointing about the width of the park to the left of it "...No further distant than the park, that's La Mesa, and it'll be the best spot it hit all the built up parts of the city."
>"But, Irving, what about geography?"
"Don't worry, it's an air det."
>Nick went about coding the laser for his designator and setting on their specialty freq.
>As Nick went about making contact with the specialty asset, Irving grabbed a few pairs of binoculars for the spectacle to come.
>Nick would lase the target, then call in the air asset.
>Iriving acquired it, and handed Nick a pair of binoculars, pointing out to him where it was in the sky.

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>As nick looked up toward the plane, he managed to just catch it before what appeared to be a MOAB fell out the rear end of it.
>"Are we dropping a MOAB on San Diego?"
"No."
>"What ARE we dropping?"
>Irving and Nick stared at the bomb as it burst and dispersed several darker baseball sized submunitions into a dark disk, which soon dispersed over a wide area.
"Roach Feces."
>"What?"
"We're dropping roach feces."
>"Fucking WHY?"
"Good Nuke substitute. Causes instant anaphylactic shock. I don't even know how they collected that much roach feces. Shit's worse than Ricin."

Today is the anniversary for Us Lucky Few. Yay.

So anyway, something really fun is going on. Just to let you know (and bump the thread) Jow Forums is watching cops. It's funny. Also bump

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en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiki_Camarena#Abduction_and_murder

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_MKUltra

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Northwoods

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Jow Forums is absolute cancer and I want it as far away from Jow Forums as possible

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you can put your trip on, everybody knows who you are. And my point still stands

if your "point" stands, then let k give up their guns to the state because it is merely a hobby and nothing at all to do with any notion political or otherwise, and let them ban the gadsden too, for the idea it represents should be as far from k as possible.

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go to the catalog, and then the second pinned thread. Read it carefully

Nice try at diversion. Follow your line of reasoning, and condemn the following statement.
SHALL.

How is board rules a diversion?

because rules are not the point we're contending, look over there.

oh, except i'm pointing them about because i agree with them. Jow Forums is trash, and shouldn't be on Jow Forums. The rules also state this. How is this difficult?

alright. Condemn the statement of SHALL then, and be consistent. You were saying pol should be as far away as possible, so give up your guns because the right to arms is also underpinned by a political sentiment which is incorrect in the eyes of those who feel entitled to define such things.
NOT.

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Look, i don't really give a fuck what you think. Many boards have overlap, this thread is proof of that as well as the /ak/ threads. This is usually fine, because the discussion is kept somewhat civil, i assume.

Jow Forums and Jow Forums overlap in gun control, that's it. And it clearly states in the goddamn sticky that it is not a discussion for this board, probably because Jow Forumsacks behave like funcking manchildren, the discussion got too infected, and it was decided that it doesn't belong here. Now git, and don't let the door hit you on the way out, it might get dirty

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Is this fucking legit? You can gas folks with roach feces? If so, explains your choice in music.

That said, your stories continue to prove entertaining, and your taste in music continues to prove exceptional.

If Parks gets greased I'm gonna be sad. It sure feels like it's building to that though. I just like the guy.

Hey, I found a thing I made a while ago. Cleaned it up a bit and am gonna post it here. Might continue it if anyone shows interest.

Lone Wolf

>Then you saw her, a girl crying in the street. Her sobs echoed between the buildings as you closed in on her, rifle scanning for targets. You see the enemy round the corner before you rush in front of her, shielding her from the gunfire.

You were out of food, water running low, but most importantly, you were alone. Your squad had been wiped out almost 3 days ago now, leaving you stranded in a burning city with no hope of escape or rescue. The whir of your suit was the only thing that kept you company in these trying times.

You don't know why, but you always liked it better this way. Being part of a unit just slowed you down and made stealthy operations much harder than they needed to be. You check your bullpup rifle one last time before moving forward through the rubble of the bombed out city. The sound of distant gunfire puts you on alert, checking your scanner and taking your rifle off safe. You engaged your over shield, charging it to maximum before rounding the corner.

You're thrown to the floor as a round slams into your back. Scrambling off the ground, you fire in the general direction of the attacker before ducking inside a building. Your shields are beeping incessantly as they warn you of imminent danger. After the beeping stops, your shield meter slowly recharges and you make your way through the building.

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10 hours later

Day soon turned to night as you waited patiently behind cover, having found the optimal place to lay fire down from. You cleared every single room in this building twice before setting up on the steps that overlook the 2 openings to the building.

You'd been waiting there for almost 5 hours when you came to the conclusion that nobody was coming for you, and that it was probably a sniper that shot you. When you snap out of your tunnel vision, you realize just how dark it is and turn on your integrated night vision. Time to see if that sniper is still out there watching.

You make it to the roof of the building before turning on your camouflage, sneaking over to the edge of the building. When you got there, you took out a pair of heavy duty binoculars and looked down on the ground, seeing where you made a huge dent in the concrete. Upon closer inspection, you can see a small dot moving around slowly where the door is. You zoom in on it with the helmet's integrated zoom and see it's a laser.

You shake your head at the sloppiness and create some dust with your hand. Not enough to alert the sniper, but enough to show the laser's angle. You drop the dust and see the laser is coming from a building at the very end of the road. That shot was at least 1000 yards, well beyond the range of your small bullpup. You need a bigger gun.

You make it back downstairs and open the weapon cache you found inside one of the rooms. Inside were a bunch of old military surplus rifles from the 2200s, nothing of use to you until you found a very large and long rifle. A SAMR20D. The SAMR20 was a 20 millimeter high velocity gun that was designed to fire a variety of ammunition out to almost 2000 yards from a mount. However, that's the catch, it has to be mounted to fire it with any kind of accuracy by a normal man. Lucky for you, you're not any normal man.

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You lift the rifle up and shoulder it normally, like you would shoulder any other weapon. It felt surprisingly comfortable to hold, considering it was almost 80 pounds of gun. You put the weapon over your shoulder before looking inside the crate for ammunition. You find a backpack of magazines marked 'RAFS' for Rocket Assisted Fin Stabilized. You take a magazine of these rounds out of the backpack and slap it in the rifle, pulling the bolt handle back before it slams forward with a clack. You see a lever on the side of the gun with a bar that attached to the bolt handle as well. Guess that was how you were supposed to rack the bolt if you weren't half a ton of super soldier.

You bring the massive rifle to the roof and lay yourself down by the ledge, unfolding the bipod. Steadying yourself, you flick the safety off and turn on the thermal scope. You zoom in the scope and scan the general area you found the sniper hiding at. You eventually find him and find a solid part of the building to laze. The laser flicks on and off, giving you a range of about 1100 yards. The corrections are done automatically by the scope and you focus yourself, lining up the crosshair with the glowing white silhouette of the sniper. When it's all lined up, you pull the trigger. An earth shattering boom echoes across the entire line of buildings as you watch the shot fly straight towards its target. You see the shot hit and it disintegrates the sniper that used to be there, his rifle falling off the roof.

There was a lightning strike, accompanied by a massive clap of thunder, prompting rain to start pouring from the sky. You were now truly alone.

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After searching through buildings for a few days, you found some extra provisions from the ruined buildings. You've taken a liking to this massive rifle. It's like when men used to use full length rifles in combat back in the 20th and 21st century. It wasn't any good at clearing buildings, but in the city of New Magosha, the long ranges and sight lines required a bit more gun than your bullpup could provide.

You're sitting inside the building you've called home since you first ducked inside. It's raining again, meaning you were collecting water in your barrel up top. The radio in your suit wasn't getting a signal and you haven't seen another friendly since your last squad mate died. You just sit on the steps, making another spear out of rebar with your plasma knife.

The sound of rubble falling makes you jump a bit before readying the new rebar spear. You were ready to throw it like a javelin when you remember your rifle. Grabbing the rifle, you set down the spear gently, as to not make any noise. You check the suppressor on the front of the gun before making sure the chamber was loaded. Everything checked out and you engaged your camouflage.

Outside, you see nothing but allied dropships fleeing the city. They're running from something. You try and tune into the frequency they're on, but it's being jammed by the enemy still. Then, you see what they were running from. An XK-45 heavy walker. It fired a massive laser beam at one of the retreating dropships, swatting it from the sky like a mosquito. It comes spiraling down before skidding down the street, bouncing once before whipping around rear first.

Attached: Spartan 4.jpg (1200x600, 269K)

You run over to the dropship as fast as you can to find supplies, if nothing else. You get behind the dropship doors and pull with all your might, barely ripping them off their hinges. Inside was a grizzly sight, bodies laying limp in restraints, weapons and ammo scattered across the floor, and the racks above the bodies laying open from the crash. Your first priority is to check for survivors, or you'd probably be court marshaled for letting soldiers die. However, none of the soldiers made it out alive, which you can't decide whether that's good or bad. What was good about the dropship crashing was that it was a heavy weapons detachment, meaning you had enough ordinance to cripple the walker for boarding.

After exiting the drop ship one final time, you walk back over to the tarps you had laid out on the opposite side of the street. You give a crisp salute before walking back inside, grabbing the heaviest weapons you could carry.

20 minutes later

You're running towards this massive walker at high speed, a quad barrel rocket launcher on your back and a suppressed pistol on your thigh in a magnetic holster. You finally reach the walker as it charges up another shot. You take aim while running after the walker before locking on to the laser. Pulling the trigger releases all 4 rockets in a salvo, as they track towards the walker. The rockets slam into it, throwing its aim off just enough to miss the dropship it was targeting. When the smoke clears, the laser is no longer on the mount, falling off the sides of the walker onto the streets below. You toss the empty rocket cartridge out and load another one in from the satchel on your side.

Attached: XK-45.jpg (1244x700, 132K)

The launcher beeps as you lock onto it's front leg, firing the rockets. When the salvo hits home, the walker slams into the ground and you take out your rifle, tossing the empty launcher and satchel aside. You leap into the air, managing to get on the deck of the walker. You fire 2 shots into the closest crew member, downing him before checking your scanner. There's at least 5 more crew on this walking tank. You kick the door in to the walker and a shotgun blast nearly blows you off the tank. You engage your mag boots and pull yourself back up, spraying the inside of the walker before he has a chance to pump the action. You hop inside the walker and execute the remaining crew before setting a 50 pound charge inside.

Hopping out of the walker, you run to a safe distance before blowing the charge. The walker is blown to pieces from the inside, scattering its remains across the streets of New Magosha.

You're walking back to the building you were camped out at when you hear something off. It's like crying, but muffled. Looking around you, there's nothing but empty buildings and streets around you. When you conclude it's probably nothing, you continue down the street towards your encampment.

As you turn down the street, you notice the crying is louder this time. It's coming from behind you. You turn around and scan the buildings for hostiles before looking down the street. Then you saw her, a girl crying in the street. Her sobs echoed between the buildings as you closed in on her, rifle scanning for targets. You see the enemy round the corner before you rush in front of her, shielding her from the gunfire. The volume of fire coming in nearly knocks you off your feet as your shield slowly gets chipped away by the bombardment. This prompts you to lift the girl off the ground and run her inside a building, just as your shields break.

Attached: Spartan 5.png (1118x1116, 2.17M)

She's screaming now, covering her ears with her shoulder and one hand while hanging onto your neck with the other. You hold her tight as you rush into an alleyway, charging your shields before ducking into another alley. You pull up your map and see you're only a quarter mile from your hideout. Nothing is showing up on your scanner, so you keep running towards your camp.

You make it to your camp and set the girl down in a chair before turning back to the door.

“Thank you.” The girl tells you, sniffling a bit.

You nod and get back in position on the stairs, watching and waiting for any enemies to come inside. This goes on for hours before you're sure nobody followed you back. When you turn around, you see the girl is sitting there with one of your spears in her hands.

“Did you make these?” She asks. “There's a lot of them. I counted 116.”

You get off the stairs and realize you were laying on one of your spears. You pick it up and set it down next to the rest. You look at her before holding out your hand expectantly.

“But what if those bad guys try to take me?” She asks.

You just bang on your chest piece a couple times before she reluctantly gives you the spear. You set it down gently in the stack of rebar spears before motioning for her to follow you. The halls you take her down lead to a bedroom that was vacated during the evacuation. The girl knows what you want her to do. She gets in bed and you flick off the light, leaving the door open just a crack before sighing. You didn't know how to take care of kids, you didn't even know how to be a regular human being. You sat down on the stairs, hearing more gun fire about 5 miles out. The soldiers aren't what worried you, it's how you're going to get this girl out of the city alive.

Attached: Spartan 6.jpg (640x404, 57K)

When you wake up next morning, you get up immediately, putting your helmet back on and sealing it up.

“Are you awake yet?” A voice asks outside your door.

You respond by stepping off the bed, making it creak loudly as you walked towards the door. When you open it, you see she's holding up a little ration packet for you. The girl is about 13 and about 3 feet shorter than you. Then again, you're almost 7 feet tall, so most regular people are shorter than you anyways. You take the ration packet and tear it open, revealing a food tube and some candies, which you handed back to the girl.

“Thank you.” She says gratefully, taking the candies.

You nod and walk back to the stairs, where you flattened out a portion to lay down at. You sucked down the nutrient tube before taking the straw out of your helmet, sealing it back up when you were done. You lay down in your usual spot, checking to see if your rifle was loaded before you began guard duty again.

“Is that what you do all day?” The girl asks. “Just lay there and watch the door?”

You nod and continue your watch as the girl eats her candies.

“Well, my name is Lucy. What's your name?” She asks.

You're about to respond when you pause. What was your real name? The amount of times you've been called '225' and 'Echo-225' are numerous. You've never actually used your real name in many years. If somebody told you, you'd remember, but you don't know off the top of your head.

Attached: Spartan 7.jpg (1332x850, 196K)

You just shake your head and continue to watch the door.

“You don't talk all that much, do you?” She asks.

You shake your head again and keep watching the door.

“Are you human?” She asks.

When you register what she said, you freeze. It made every single part of you feel cold and distant as the weight of the words sink in.

“Hello?” The girl asks.

You stand up and turn to face the girl. You were far enough down the steps that she was at eye level with you. You don't know what to do or say. All you can do is shrug slowly before getting back into position.

When 4 hours have passed, you finally sit up on the steps, surprising Lucy.

“I thought you fell asleep!” She yells.

You shush her immediately and keep your rifle trained on the door. You send out a high intensity pulse from your scanner and find nothing, allowing you to relax a bit. You turn back to her and she's twiddling her thumbs.

“Sorry.” She tells you.

You sigh and open a compartment on your suit, taking out some tools, patches, and oil. You unscrew the suppressor and take it apart completely, seeing it's completely black with carbon buildup. You get to work immediately on cleaning it. Once that's done, you begin disassembling your rifle and begin to dip the parts in cleaning agent while you clean the barrel of your rifle.

“Are you cleaning your gun?” Lucy asks.

You nod and continue cleaning it.

20 minutes later

After you've cleaned your rifle, you put it all back together and wipe off the round counter, which had gotten oil spilled on it. 48 rounds of 7.62x57 millimeter subsonic fin stabilized firepower per magazine. You load said magazine into the rifle before racking the bolt back, letting it drop forward to feed a round. The suppressor was next, being screwed back onto the rifle.

Attached: Spartan 8.jpg (1253x2000, 411K)