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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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"Brakes?" The pilot finally chuckles, "As far as I'm concerned, babe, this thing ain't got no brakes."

As if in agreement, the immense twin engines of the aurora continue to scream, ever louder. Even through the thick exterior and windows that are literally inches thick, you can hear them. But more than that, you can feel them.

And as the blade-sharp tip of the craft turns to face a long stretch of tarmac, even you, maybe immortal, have no small amount of trepidation in the pit of your stomach.

“Commander Chuck, you're clear for go.”

“Copy tower, rocket is go.”

You aren't sure if there are physical throttles in such a craft, or if it's all computer operated in precise percentages on a panel screen. But at that moment, if the throttles are there, they're shoved to the deck.

Almost like getting punched in the chest, the acceleration suddenly hits. Faster than any coaster, faster than the most distinguished drag race monster, a beast lurks inside those twin engines, and it has awoken.

The craft is airborne nearly as soon as the burst of speed suddenly grips you. Not a moment later, the pilot has the craft tilted near vertical and yet it climbs.

Sarna is yelling incomprehensibly into the headset as the aurora; affectionately known as “the rocket” by those involved, arcs upward into the blue beyond in a violent, shaking roar.

While you had thought you had seen enough to not be overly disturbed by something created by mere men, you're gripping the bracing bar in front of you as though your very existence depended on it.

“I think... I'm going to be sick...” Sarna manages to groan.

You look over and imagine her green-faced inside the helmet, though with the sun visor down, you can't actually see it.

Mattias, however, appears rather relaxed behind the dark sunglasses he had been given despite initially refusing. The old knight chews at a mustache hair, arms folded and head rested on the cushion behind it.
aaand right as I'm leaving for work, fuck my timezone.
Oh wow this is a blast form the past for me. Hey Papa N
Dude he's been back for months now...
Ahhhh yeah its time! I got stuff going on in a few hrs so I may miss some of the thread but I'll be back to archive if its needed.
If you had taken any solace in his calm demeanor, that peace is quickly and brutally shattered.

“Chuck to ground, takeoff complete, beginning initial acceleration.” Comes the pilots voice, completely nonchalant.

“Y-you mean this thing goes faster?” Sarna sounds downright terrified.

“Faster? We haven't even leveled out yet. Yeah it goes faster.”

As the nose of the craft begins to come down, leveling out over the earth, only then do you manage a glance out the window.

Outside of that thick glass, a deep penetrating black, dotted with white. In the impossibly near distance, the moon.

“Wow, that's even closer than I thought it was.” You mumble.

“Yeah it's played hell on all the tides and such. Sea levels are already higher than they've ever been.” Chuck affirms.

After the initial violence of the takeoff, as the craft settles into a cruise, the shaking stops and is replaced by only a slight vibration. In fact, you might call it the smoothest flight you've ever been on.

“How high are we?” You ask.

“Space.” Is all the pilot answers.

Despite yourself, you can't help but marvel at the sights outside the window. There are many places you had thought you would perhaps one day end up. Even the ocean depths that had first started this insane journey of yours hadn't seemed that out of the question, given your prior occupation.

Space, though? A childhood dream, perhaps, but never something you'd thought to ever experience.
>delicious childbearing hips
>ant sized arms
Not sure if I can fap to this...
For ME. I've missed him all the time, dude.
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Proportions are hard, yo.

It's good to be back.

“Hey, Sarna, take a look.” You nudge her and tug her mirrored visor up.

The face beneath is almost completely drained of color, the little immortal appearing more haggard than you had ever seen her.

“Relax, we're just screaming across the upper boundaries of the atmosphere at god knows how fast. Nothing to worry about.” You attempt to console her.

She doesn't appear amused.

“Well how about you, Phoenix? This beat dinking around through the holy land on some old horse?”

Mattias raises his sunglasses with a finger.

“Gallant was a fine steed that served me with honor throughout that time. I'd prefer you not speak ill of his memory.”

“...Right. My bad?”

Flight plan:

[ ] Approach from the east, over the vast expanses of Russia and eastern Europe.

[ ] Approach from the west, directly over the UK and France.

[ ] From the north, over the north sea and old viking stomping grounds.

[ ] From the south, across the harsh dark continent of Africa

[ ] Other?
holy fuck I actually caught this one.
from the north
>[ ] From the north, over the north sea and old viking stomping grounds.

I don't think crash landing near Magical STALKER lands is good idea. UK will likely be a anti-aircraft hell. And nobody cares about Africa. But... that might have less missiles...
>[X] Approach from the east, over the vast expanses of Russia and eastern Europe.
Feel like there would be more places to land here also if we do crash it would be easier to find transportation. And maybe we will find dad around.
>[x] Approach from the east, over the vast expanses of Russia and eastern Europe.

Wasn't able to catch the last thread so I'll say it now, congrats on the engagement Papa!

I already started writing a northern approach but now it's tied.
North, don't wanna pull a Malaysia airlines.
As you sit back to leave well enough alone and try to hopefully enjoy the rest of this flight, you go over the flight plan that had been quickly set out prior to what you can now see was accurately described as “launch.”

Approaching over Russia had been deemed the most risky, as it likely housed the most dangerous armament to the aurora, even as high and fast as it was. Thus that route had been quickly set aside.

As had an approach directly from the west, where you'd have to contend with the likely equally advanced defenses of a potentially hostile UK and more of France.

Though at first an approach from the south, over Africa, had seemed plausible, that plan had quickly been dashed. The Mediterranean sea and Africa, though housing no great military powers in modern times, was often times home to many a carrier and its accompanying battlegroup. With those still under the control of unknown allegiance, this route too had been deemed too risky.

The northern route, over a huge area of mostly sea and ice, had seemed the best approach. Those seas were less frequented by anything carrying missiles that could threaten the high altitude craft. Additionally, there had been a decent amount of speculation that its countries would be less likely to be Order strongholds.

You had thrown your own vote in for coming in from the north, and that route had eventually been chosen.

Thus you watch on a small screen in front of you as the craft passes over Greenland, a great white expanse below, surrounded by sea.

There was only one unknown on this route, and that is the current situation of Germany and France, the final leg of the approach, and close where you hoped to land. It was where the aurora would be most dangerous, after dropping altitude in order to seek safe landing.
[ ] From the north, over the north sea and old viking stomping grounds
“Beginning first turn. Let's hope the Scandinavians aren't too worried about us.” The co-pilot informs the three of you in the more rearward seating through the headset.

Covering ground at what you'd have thought impossible speeds before this, you can see the ground far below. And as the land begins to approach, a warning alarm sounds.

“Well they know we're here and are scrambling aircraft, but no missile launches yet. Standard procedure, we'll just keep it dark and be gone before they can do much else. Let's just hope they don't pass some sort of warning along.” Chuck mutters as he trims the craft upward and touches the thrust forward slightly.

“The fighters aren't anything to worry about?” You ask, really not knowing.

“By the time they could get into missile range from where they launched, we'll be well past.”

You feel a bit more relaxed by how unperturbed both flight crew sound. You're certain this isn't their first experience with such.

However in only a few minutes, you're right back to anxious.

It had started when the co-pilot identified a few more aircraft launches, nothing out of the ordinary. However soon he was relaying more and more information to the pilot who seemed to only push the craft faster and faster.

“More fighters scrambling from the UK.” He says again, after relaying launches from France, Germany, and the UK already.

“Safe to say, I think this is a bit more than a welcoming party at this point.” The pilot now has a twinge of anxiousness in his voice.

[ ] Attempt to hail France and secure landing

[ ] Attempt to hail Germany and secure landing

[ ] See if Switzerland will let you set down

[ ] There's always the high altitude ejection option...

[ ] Other
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[ ] See if Switzerland will let you set down
>[x] See if Switzerland will let you set down
Maybe they're staying neutral in this as well?
>[ ] See if Switzerland will let you set down

I have my doubts.
Whereabouts were we headed? Germany or the swiss sound good so far
If the LHC is an Order device, wouldn't that mean that Switzerland is in the Order's pocket and it's neutrality is so the Order's experiments won't be disturbed?
You don't build something like the LHC and conceal it's real purpose without having some sway.
I mean, it's right in Geneva!
Scrambling to try to think through this and find a solution that neither involves leaping out into the great beyond and chancing a parachute landing or landing right into the clutches of the Order, you look around the controls in front of you.

“I have a communication suite back here, don't I?” You ask.

“Hey, I thought you were told not to touch any of that!”

“We need to land, don't we? Unless you want to try to set down through a swarm of fighters, let me try to talk these people down. If they know why I'm here, they might let us through. Now tell me how to work this thing.”

It takes several minutes for the copilot and yourself to get the systems set. Thankfully it was made to be low-stress and was setup for ease of use.

“Alright, you should be patched into their defense networks. You can give it a shot, but if you can't come up with anything, we're probably just going to have to dump you above their airspace and hope you manage to land somewhere nearby.”

“Thanks for the confidence...” You grumble, depressing a button to key the communications to your own headset mic.

At first, there is only a torrent of fast and angry sounding German. Another try in French. Unfortunately, you don't speak either of these languages.

“English.” You finally manage to slip through, “I speak english.”

“Unidentified craft, you are in illegal breach of European airspace. Declare your intentions, drop to ten thousand feet, and await fighter escort!”

Well that doesn't sound like that much of a plan to you...

>"The Americans are back to save your asses a third time. Who is fighting the Swiss?
My intentions are to save the world by kicking the orders asses which I can't do if you shoot mine off so for the love of all you hold dear, let us land
Ha! Do it. If only because we'll be shoot down out of spite instead of anything else.
I'm not sure why we're indulging in idealism when it's fairly obvious Switzerland is probably in the Order's pocket. This is when Kiara would be calling us a fool or something.

>"State your relationship status with the user known as "The Order"."
“This is an American aircraft under strict orders from POTUS himself on mission to save the god damned world. Which would make it like the third time for Europe? Or is it the fourth? I've lost count. Either which way, you need to let me set this ship down, first.”

For several moments, there is no reply.

Until all at once, a plethora of warning klaxons sound nearly simultaneously, blaring through your headset.

“I'm not sure why you thought that would work,” Chuck bites out, “but we've got a dozen or so missiles inbound now.”

Even as he speaks, the craft rolls right and begins a hard turn to hopefully shake the missiles. Though the aurora is screaming along fast, even you know that modern missiles are significantly faster.

“You think they're under Order control?” You hiss against the strain of the high G turn.

“Nah. Probably just coincidence.” Chuck grumbles.

Only partway through the turn, the craft shudders violently, bucking hard as the engines seem to lose power.

“What the hell was that?! Did we take a hit!?” You shout, craning your neck to try to see behind you.

“No, but engine power is dropping! The electronics are...”

But even before Chuck can finish, you see the panel in front of you, now hardly recognizable.

Where once had been words and diagrams and all manner of number that to you meant absolutely nothing...

“Why is it all messed up?” Sarna yells in fright at the monitors flicking off and on or appearing scrambled.

However you're equally concerned with what feels like something alien yet familiar, coursing through your body. You wince, though the sensation isn't painful in the least.

“Last...” A voice. You aren't sure if it comes through the headset or pangs inside your own mind, yet you hear it all the same.
As the electronics continue to malfunction, the engines cutting in and out as the speed drops perilously, you feel aloof of all of that.

Though everything around you is in calamity, you are almost serene.

“Shit, we're losing too much speed, the missiles!” Chuck warns, no longer sounding at all as cocky and confident as he has when you'd first set out.


Though you can't see her, and you know that it's likely she's locked up and perhaps even rended far, far below, you can almost sense her with you now. At least in some, small way.

“Incoming missile. Brace!” Screams the copilot.

And you can see it now, a the trail of the incoming warhead headed right toward the craft through the reaches of the atmosphere.

Even now, however, for some reason you feel calm.

Only moments away from impact, perhaps just a few hundred yards away, the missile explodes brilliantly against the darkness of space beyond. The meteor that intercepted it swallowed in the blast.

“What... In the hell...?” Chuck sounds equally awed and nervous.

Who could blame him, though. Even you know that nobody has ever been in some tin can, far above the world, blanketed by a meteor shower.

The space debris falls toward the earth all about the aurora. So close the craft flies through their trails only moments after what would have been impacts.

“This level of magic...” Sarna speaks in barely a whisper as she watches the events outside.

Though the aurora is certainly losing altitude, the engines no longer blasting it along, no missile manages to get closer than the first had. Each, upon approach, is met by its own intercepting meteor.

For the first time on the flight, Mattias appears uneasy.

Even as the aurora slowly begins to dip down toward the clouds beneath, it remains shielded from any affronting attackers. You watch as several jets below jerk in attempts to avoid the showering rocks. Some manage to duck aside a few, though none appear to remain untouched for long.
>Even you know that nobody has ever been in some tin can, far above the world,
Dammit, now I gotta go listen to that.
“Call me crazy, and maybe I am, but I don't think this is just some sort of dumb luck. You mind telling me what the hell's going on?” The copilot sounds as much angry as relieved.

“She might be a bit crazy herself, but let's just say you can thank my friend.” You answer.

“If she's capable of so much in such a state as we suspect, boy,” Mattias looks over toward you, having tossed the shades aside, “Her power may already be far out of my means to curtail if needed. While the moon and creeping death may be happenstance, this was not.”

Before you can answer that concern, however, you lurch in your seat and grasp at your chest. The feeling of serenity suddenly gone and a gripping pain having taken hold.

Coinciding with that, the meteor pattern begins to appear far more random even as the aurora regains engine function.

Wasting no time and barely above the clouds now, Chuck punches the controls forward and rekindles the speed lost, though the craft continues to drop in altitude.

It's only when you're below the thick cover of storm clouds that you witness the scene below.

While you had never seen Switzerland from a birds eye view, you have a hunch it didn't always appear a burnt, blackened waste. As far as your eyes can see, there is only charred, dead land.

Standing out against that macabre scene, fighters arc and dive and fire below you.

You watch as a pair of PAK FA's in formation let loose several missiles apiece, the contrails soaring to meet several Eurofighters.

And a new voice crackles over your comms.

“This is the Free Eurozone Aircore, Wingwizards, if they wanted to shoot you down this badly, you're probably a friend to us.”

>"You're probably right! Got a place for us to land?"

About all I got.
Sounds good to me +1
Got no time to be asking questions heh
“With a name like that, you're probably right. I need to get this thing on the ground, you got a place we can set down?”

“Geneva itself is too dangerous, but we've go a front nearby. We can get you on the ground in Annemasse. The fighting around here is still intense, so keep an eye out for ground fire.” The Wingwizard pilot replies.

The two Russian craft rise to alongside your own.

“Uhh... These guys on our side?” Chuck sounds nervous, so suddenly surrounded. You realize you hadn't connected this to the rest of the aircraft.

“Yeah. They're taking us down to Annemasse. Follow them in, and watch for anything from below.”

Chuck doesn't complain, likely thinking the aurora is malfunctioning after what had happened far above. You explain the reality of it to him on the way down. Though your words don't seem to alleviate his concerns about a craft he knew intricately.

After all, it's one thing to explain magic to someone, with what little understanding of it you yourself possess. It's something entirely different to see it in action.

Though when the wheels finally touch down and the parachute deploys to slow the Rocket to a coasting stop, you hear both pilots sigh in relief. Sarna leans back, pulls off her helmet, shakes out her hair and yells her pent up frustrations into the helmet in one long “AAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

Mattias doesn't appear any more concerned than he usually is, though with him it was difficult to tell, you think.

Even before you actuate the cockpit release, you can hear the telltale sounds of artillery through the glass. Once open, those booming pieces become all the more apparent. Graced with the chatter of automatic fire and the screaming of jet engines and the yelling of men.

Here in Europe, the war was very much still on.

Climbing on suddenly shaken legs, you're the first one out of the aurora, stumbling off the ladder rungs to the airfield below.
>While you had never seen Switzerland from a birds eye view, you have a hunch it didn't always appear a burnt, blackened waste. As far as your eyes can see, there is only charred, dead land.

Papa-N no pls. Switzerland is too beautiful for this to happen
There you're greeted by a small group of men in varying combat fatigues. You can recognize a few patterns. Russian gorka, Finnish M05, German Flektarn, and various others.

“We heard you put on quite the show up there. Which of you is the mage of that caliber? I've never heard of anything at that kind of level. You?” One of the Germans asks as he points at Sarna.

“Me?” She raises her hands defensively, “I can't do anything like that, I just hit stuff hard.”

“And you,” Another in camo unrecognizable to you looks uncertainly at Mattias, “You look like Order...”

You step forward a bit to the front of your own small group, now complete after both pilots hauled themselves to the ground.

“Former. He's with me now.”

Now that you get closer, you can get a better look at the group in front of you. Each appears older, though not elderly. All have, so far as you can tell based on your limited knowledge, badges befitting of high rank.

“You the wizard that did all of that?”

“Well, uh... Sort of but not really. Bit of a long story. Where the hell are we?”

One of the Russians is the first to answer, voice thick with accent.

“Part of the western front pushing out toward the coast. I doubt you getting anywhere close to here was just happenstance. You know what we're attacking here, I think.”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Which makes my job easier. How long until you guys take Geneva, I have someone I need to pick up there.”

At this, the group of men glance amongst each other uneasily. You hope you hadn't said something to set them off.

“Geneva?” This voice obviously and unmistakably French, “There's only Order in Geneva. They're dug in hard and deep. We've been at a stalemate here for almost two months now. To call that city a fortress would be putting it lightly.”

>Alright. So what's my options here? I need in Geneva at all cost.
If they need the reason for why beyond picking up a witchypants. Explain it. God only knows Ruin would tip this war way into their favor.
There are no brakes on this train
Ask for a rundown of the European situation, tell them why we need to get to Geneva and how it'll end the war
>"Well, fuck. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Ask what the situation in the rest of Europe is like, fill them in on US current events. Ask what resources they still have available.
They've been using artillery barrages against the Order positions in Geneva, right? The same principle that's working for them will work for us: if you shell a city for too long, the ruins will catch shrapnel and break up shockwaves, giving infantry a million and one places to hole up and skulk around.

If our new friends throw a barrage away from where we need to go, they can feign an advance there, drawing defenders away from our path. It's especially likely they'll fall into that typical response because of how long they've apparently been stalemated. Then we infiltrate, jumping cover from ruin to ruin until we're where we need to go.
We just need to get into the LHC, right? Isn't most of it in France or can we only access it in Switzerland?
"See I really need to pick my friend up, and successfully retrieving her would basically mean the Order's defeat. Any idea how I can get into CERN atleast?"
>Gib information on the LHC to entice them into acting now for a big advantage in the continuing war
>Information on the general situation
Sounds good to me, we need options and ideas

And our train has no brakes, getting our witchy back!
“Only a fortress? That doesn't sound so bad. I don't need the city proper, I just need access to the Large Hadron Collider nearby.”

“The CERN facility? What could you possibly intend to get out of there? That place is so volatile aircraft can't even get too close above it without crashing.” The Frenchman sounds dubious.

“Trust me, if I find who I'm looking for there, I don't think we'll have much more trouble putting the Order to rest afterward.”

The men eye you wearily. Once you put yourself in their shoes, you don't have a difficult time understanding why. After all you had barged in here on some black project aircraft and barely had your boots on the ground before making such a bold statement as that.

While they agree to listen to what you have to say, all are in agreement that the very active airfield isn't the place to discuss such matters. You fetch a landrover to what appears a hastily constructed command center, complete with all manner of satellite dish and radio tower. Though you all remain outside when they turn back to speak.

Before you go further into detail about what you're after, you first ask about the general situation of Europe and the war here.

About this, they are much less tight-lipped and curt.

According to them, the war is at an apex and shows no signs of slowing. While there has been some limited progress against the order, what ground the FEA does hold is a shaky grip at best. Though there are fronts all throughout Europe, the only areas they have under more stable control are parts of Germany, Eastern Europe, and South-Western Russia.
Here, where you stand, is as far Westward on the continent as they've made it.

“France is still a stronghold, and Italy we barely have a defensive line at. Most of our resources are devoted to these two fronts. Though we're sure that once winter breaks, the Russian front will be equally bloody. The UK is firmly in Order hands and from what we can tell, the next largest Order bastion next to Italy in the region.” Proclaims one of the gathered Germans.

Africa is apparently even more of a mess of ethnic genocide and general chaos.

“We don't think even the Order has much control there, and we've only devoted limited resources to the northern region.”

As for Asia, not including Russia, it sounds just as much of a mess. The Chinese have apparently used the general chaos to launch a war south, which was held up by a combined Korean and Japanese effort. Only for the Order to come south from Russia in force and reinforce several of their own Chinese installations.

While this information is dumped on you, you also let them know of the general situation across the pond. This seems to brighten several of them up.

“If we can secure safe passage across the water, a fresh group of American troops and equipment starting up on the western coastline would catch the Order in France and the UK in a pincer. The opening of that front would perhaps be enough for us to finally gain some ground westward.”
“I can't completely promise I can manage that if I find who I'm looking for inside CERN, but I've got a good hunch she could certainly kickstart such a plan.” You nod.

“I don't know if the name means anything to you, but I'm after a rather powerful immortal that I've got a good hunch is trapped in that facility. Kiara.”

However the gathered group of what you now know are generals and other battle commanders, appear to have no idea whom you speak of.

“Just another witch? We have many fighting for us, and while they are their own tactical asset, to be sure, they aren't enough to just take on the Order just like that. Forgive me, but I don't truly believe one other witch would make all that much of a difference. I mean...”

But the man is cut short by a quiet, world-worn voice that growls from nearby.

All of you turn to look at the girl there. Crouched in a small circle with several others, each in faded track suits, kalashnikovs across their squatting knees and several bottles of varying emptiness set in front of them.

“Did you just say Kiara? That's not a very common name.” The girl almost growls.

Her dark eyes, though raised toward you, appear as though she's looking through you. Her otherwise comely if not beautiful features overshadowed by old scars and filthy, dirt-stained sandy brown hair.


My girl's home with some hot chow so I'm going to take her up on the offer. Haven't had a real dinner with all these night shifts the last few days. I plan on going pretty late tonight again.
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>slav-squatting, vodka drinking, Kalashnikov wielding, track suit wearing, probably witches
Obviously the sight of this is just so immensely Russian that we immediately start speaking to them in our mother tongue about Kiara
>Release the inner slav within and ask them what they know, and inform them on Kiara for the benefit of the gathered masses
"Neither is Ruin."
>How about Ruin then

I still don't understand that shit.
Some of >>38300736 this maybe, for laughs.

But for reals
"Uncommon name for an uncommon witch. Maybe you know her better as Ruin"
"You heard correctly. Tall, black hair, apocalyptic. Nice girl.

And who might you be?"
Alright I'm back, writing now
Remember Papa, these words of wisdom:
Toт, ктo caдитcя нa кopтoчки дoлжны пpaвить миpoм цeлoй.
The closest a machine translator gets is "The one who sits down on kortochki have to rule the world whole."
Well, close enough.
All I get for kortochki is its either a city, some alphabetical vegetable thing, or a children's cartoon?

Wasting no opportunity to squat, you join the small group of them and immediately help yourself to a swig of kvass, and another of what you find is perhaps the cheapest most gut-burning vodka you've ever experienced.

“That's right, Kiara. Sometimes called Ruin. She who watches the goats frolic.” You continue in Russian this time.

The girl squints her eyes in the continued scowl.

“I'm not so sure about that last part, but I've heard that name before. Most of us witches fortunate enough to find safe havens have heard old stories passed down, and that's all you speak of. If ever such a witch existed, it was long, long ago. To find her here? Now? I do not believe it.”

To this, however, another one of the gathered witches speaks out before you or Sarna can react.

“She's more than just a fairytale! She was real! With eyes of burning tears and hair of raven feathers! It's said she skulked about in a cave and would eat children that passed too near!”

“That's not the story I heard. I heard she flew not on a broom but on a great serpent so long it could bite its own tail and fit an entire city in the circle it made. And when a valiant prince sought to slay her dragon, she boiled him alive and fed him to her army of rat demons.” Another adds.

“She's not like any of that!” Scoffs Sarna from behind you, “Well I mean, she's scary, sure! But she doesn't eat kids. At least she didn't eat me.”

“Yet.” You almost say with a smirk, but think better of it.

“This girl's right. She isn't just a story. I found her in America, a piece of her, anyways. From there she directed me to find the rest of herself, which is what I was doing before all of this happened. We got as far as combining her soul with her mind, but hadn't managed to find her body before she was taken.” Is what you actually go on to say.
“So you say.” The girl you'd first spoken to waves her hand dismissively.

“He isn't wrong.” Comes the baritone voice of Mattias who seems to have joined the conversation finally. You hadn't realized he spoke Russian. Though with all the free-time he maybe had after finally capturing Kiara, you figure some rosetta stone lessons weren't that far-fetched to keep occupied.

“Order...” One of the squatting witches hisses.

More than one finger moves toward the trigger of an AK.

“I spent better portion of my long, unnatural life either trying to capture or continuing to guard the one known as Ruin. She may be the subject of your childhood stories, but she's as real as any one of you, and likely a thousand fold more powerful, before her fall.”

You can sense the tension, so thick you could cut it like salo.

“So that's what we're doing here, but how about yourselves? What are some Russian witches doing this far west?” You ask even as you dole out a few cigarettes, hopefully enough to continue the peace and keep down the chance of gunfire. Witches this group might be, but you can tell just by looking at them that they're a far cry from those you've met thus far.

“Us? We're combat witches. I'm Rada, I lead this group here.” She tilts her head at the rest of the track suited witches.

“We've been fighting in wars for one side or the other since war was about horses and arrows. I've put more men into graves than you have hairs on your head. You might be pretty, but who are you that one so powerful as the fabled Ruin would ever pick you to help her?” Rada asks from behind a thick plume of smoke.

"There may be something strange about you. Some magic even I can't understand. But you're no wizard, that much I can tell." She sizes you up once more, but appears to see nothing new or perhaps even interesting.
“Well after that ride,” You nod in the direction of the parked aurora which has now gathered a small crowd of marveled onlookers, “I'm a space cowboy. Before any of this, I was the gangster of love. Some people just call me Last.”

One of the other witches whistles before laughing, “He is quite the charmer, Rada.”

Rada appears slightly bemused even as she hushes her underlings with a look.

“So even if she exists, and even if you to find her in that evil place, what then? You just come walking back out? She's never the good guy in any of the stories told.”

“She gets a bad rap, but she's not so terrible. If I get her out of there, my guess is she'll make short work of the Order any way she can.”

Though the girl doesn't appear entirely convinced, she nevertheless nods slowly.

“I'm tired of sitting here and slogging it out with the artillery. If you can get an attack together, we'll tag along. Even if it's just to laugh at you when you find out your fairytale isn't real.”

Leaving the group of squatting witches after that, you return to those you assume are the local leadership, the men you'd first met after departing the aurora.

“Well they plan on going with me one way or another,” You jerk a thumb back toward the witches, “But I somehow doubt they're going to get me there alone.”

One of the Russian generals glances over to scoff slightly.

“That group? Good fighters, sure, but crazy.”

“I'm not all that opposed to crazy.” You retort.

Ask Matt about the order forces nearby. If he tells them what's up with Machi, will they rise against him? What does he know of the CERN facility?
"You've been shelling the city, correct? Show me the distribution of your artillery, areas you've been hitting, fortified positions, salients, that sort of thing. That artillery's not gonna do shit against entrenched infantry, but it may convince the Order that you're planning a ground offense somewhere away from our target."
>“I'm a space cowboy. Before any of this, I was the gangster of love. Some people just call me Last.”
haha awesome.

Also this >>38302547 sounds good need more info maps and such to get an idea of how to do this.

Maybe we can get the Aurora to do a run over it real quick dropping boxes or something to fool them that we did a drop behind their lines.
“Now I can tell by all that noise you've got some big guns around here. What have you been shelling this whole time, and why? Is any of that directed at the CERN installation?”

The group of commanders look between each other before one of the Finnish replies.

“We've been using the artillery to support ground advances throughout most of this front. Now that our advancement has stopped, we've turned it toward Geneva proper in an attempt to soften any hard defenses and hopefully scatter the Order infantry, force them to stay in one place so we can be the ones doing the maneuvering. It would be easier with air assets, but the fighting has been fierce here for our airforce.”

You continue to listen intently as the group lead you inside to show you some maps and charts of the area and their operations. From what you can see, they have the city boxed in on three sides, with all roads through those areas firmly under control. However the Order appear to have been moving resources up from behind, though now artillery has managed to diminish that flow somewhat.

And as far as you can tell, almost none of the fire or skirmishing has been directed anywhere near the CERN area.

“Why leave all of that out? We know it's an Order installation now.”

“No one knows much about that place. Aircraft cannot get too close, or they lose all power and crash. Our drones suffer similarly. Only one special unit detachment has ever gotten close as they scouted for entrenched positions, and they reported complete failure of all electronic equipment when they drew near.” This general, German, has no explanation as to why when you press him, however.

As far as any of them know, and none seem to know overly much concerning magic, there is simply some “Unknown, compelling force” that has hold of that place.

Though at the same time, they also seem somewhat sure that the Order soldiers don't err too close to the facility, either.
“They have positions between us and that place, sure. But we don't have any information about a real military presence in the CERN installation itself.” The head of the gathered Russians, a large, barrel-chested man with one eye answers.

“Do you know anything about it, Mattias? Or maybe a way to convince the local Order to give up the goat without a fight?” You turn to the old knight.

Mattias thinks for a moment, but shakes his head.

“As to what that place is, I cannot say. Machiavelli certainly has his share of secrets, and before all fo this, I was never overly concerned with those. As to the Order troops here, even if they aren't outright loyal to Adrian and whatever it is he's up to, it's unlikely I would be able to sway them to turn cloak or run. Without a doubt I was important amongst the Order, I haven't led men in its cause for centuries. Not since Ruin herself was captured.”

So the plan seems to be drop artillery where we're not going and push through on foot? Possibly starting the barrage during the evening and sneaking in under cover of darkness?

With no real intel on what's waiting for us at CERN, it's either go in or don't go in. And NOT going in isn't on my to-do list.
Papa-N I'm dying, why must Switzerland hurt?
ask em if they think they could swing a creeping barrage for cover fire? for the last couple hundred meters or so, at least. maybe hit a few other locations in an identical fashion to confuse things
Congrats are in order as this is the first time I've been able to post since university and the start of the thread. Still stuck to a phone despite being on the other side of the world.

Happy to see Korea and Japan put aside their hatred to fight China. That's a cool little side tale I'd love to see what happens with.

As for current events. Nvg, GPS, all the tech modern military rolls with will be useless. We should go the way of the crusaders. Get a sword, a horse, and ride out with Mr Zombie Knight to rescue the fair maiden. Obviously carry the assault rifles, but even they may jam or become useless. Hence the horse. Sarna can just punch shit.

Roll the artillery to another location, have the military attack, we sneak in the flank
see if we could get a nice big steel rod and strap it to the Aurora; have it do a zip up to space, thrust at max speed downwards, release the rod and pull up; do a kinetic bombardment job on the entrance
Gotta go in on foot, so some gear a ride near it and have them ready to rout anything that tries to reenforce where we are going.
I hope we brought our .458 winmag M1 with us
As you continue to pour over the maps, attempting to come up with some sort of plan as to how you're going to get into the CERN facility, you try to think up anything to combat the unknowns.

While you'd thought about trying to retrofit munitions to attempt a “rod from god” via the aurora, that had been quickly been dashed by the ongoing air battle and how vulnerable the craft would be if launched so close to enemies already airborne. Not to mention the pilots were rather against the idea of letting anyone go at their baby with welding rods...

Instead the plan that begins to form is mostly involved in diversionary tactics. While the Order might know that the aurora had arrived and had landed safely, they almost certainly didn't know who was on board.

Even if their magical detection were still operating, what was one more witch in a place where so many were out and about in the open?

There was no question that you would have to approach on foot, one way or another. It would present much less alluring a target than a tank or column of vehicles. It would also hopefully allow you to remain undetected if the Order troops were too preoccupied attempting to turn back a fresh attack.

The artillery was central to the plan. Though they had been shelling for quite some time now, according to everything you had heard, the gathered brass assured you that they could amp up the volume of fire.

Normally that sort of tactic would give away an approaching attack. In this case, that's exactly what you wanted it to do.

With the Order under duress from even more ordinance and having to worry about the wave of troops approaching the city proper behind that marching fire, they might not even know you were coming.
Though eventually you would have to find a way to deal with the Order actually in your path. For this you'd asked to have artillery shell the positions directly ahead of you. It would be danger-close fire, but with only your own mortality potentially in question, you weren't overly concerned about blue on blue accidentals.

Whatever the artillery didn't clear out, you would leave to Rada and her combat witches. Banking on them being enough to at least provide enough a distraction for you to manage the rest of the way.

As the plan is sent out to the assembled forces, you're directed to an armory for your own needs. You hadn't been able to carry much in the way of anything in the cramped confines of the aurora, let alone much armament.

The only thing you had swifted away with you upon departure was the re-chambered garand and three enbloc clips of .458winmag. By itself a fearsome weapon, to be sure, but without platinum ammunition, rather worthless against any magic users you might encounter.

While Sarna and Mattias both seem content in what they already have, you pour over the rather meager offerings. Lots of AK rifles in a smattering of sizes and calibers, PKMs, other assorted slavic standards.

Most of all, you find it rather devoid of platinum.

Despite asking around, it seems that's a rather difficult resource to come by.

“We've been trying to get as much to the front as we can, but most of what we had has been used up. Basically whatever we capture is what we have, and we haven't captured any at all recently.” One of the weaponsmiths takes a moment to shrug before getting back to hammering at a canted front sight.
A bit put off by the lack of anything in the way of proper equipment to combat rogue or mind controlled magic users, you're almost out the doorflap before Mattias stops you with one massive hand.

It's Sarna that he points at next as she is busy ripping through a pile of assorted weaponry, rummaging most aside forcefully.

“...What are you doing?” You're finally forced to ask after watching for several long moments.

The little witch doesn't look up from her work as she replies.

“There’s... Something... Magic down there...” She grunts even as she tosses several more heavy machineguns aside.

When she finally comes back up, something in hand, her eyes go wide and with a squeak she drops the object and backs away quickly as it clatters to the floor.

“A sword?” You raise an eyebrow, but Mattias is already past you, bending to scoop the blade from the dirt below.

When he raises it to the light, the gleam is almost familiar, but you can't quite place it until the old knight draws the sword at his own sheath.

Side by side, the comparison is obvious.

“It looks just like yours?” You tilt your head and move around to get a better angle.

“That's because it is.” The Phoenix grips a bent over man by the shirt and lifts him to ease, thrusting the sword in his face.

“Where did you find this blade?”
The startled man looks bewildered between the three of you, before glancing back to the sword.

“That old thing? I dunno. I think I heard somebody looted it from a tomb and had it taken from them? This army isn't here to raid old cultural sites.”

Dropping the man without much grace, Mattias instead raises the sword to his face to catch the dim lighting on the flat.

You see his lips move slightly as he reads a small section of letters foreign to you.

“There's no mistaking it. This is Wayland's work after all.” He sounds slightly nostalgic even as he lowers the weapon.

“Someone you knew?”

“A long time ago. Though I can't speak as to whom this belonged once, they are certainly long departed. Of all Wayland's work, he only made six of these swords. This and the one I carry being of the same stock. Platinum and steel, and all manner of magics went into the making of these.”

His eyes turn to you even as he spins the sword in his hand, gripping the blade lightly as he extends the hilt toward you.

“I'd never thought to see another again, but often fate has a way with such things. It may not be one of your firearms, you have to get close enough to wield it. But as to combating magic, there is nothing a mortal can wield that compares.”

“Or in your case, an immortal?” You frown as you take the weapon from him, the weight feeling somewhat familiar as you'd once taken Mattias's blade and turned it on him.

“These swords can slice through a witch, severing her magic, weakening them. You've seen it yourself, and this blade is no different. In your case, whatever it may be, I wouldn't prick yourself with it.”
After a bit more digging, though she keeps a wary eye on the new-found blade, Sarna eventually comes up with a sheath for the weapon. She hands it to you while also keeping well away from the sword in your hand.

“Relax, I like your hair the way it is.” You smirk, which seems to calm her down slightly.

Your plan:
>use hastened artillery barrage and ground forces to distract Order troops into thinking there is an attack on the city proper
>while that diversion is underway, head on the ground toward CERN
>upon encountering the initial defensive line there, call in artillery strike to soften that line
>allow Rada and her other witches to open a path through to the facility itself
>enter CERN

Would you like to make additions/changes? Or speak to/question anyone before departing?
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Zombie swordsman. Now all we need is some beginner elves, dwarves and other heroes to attack!
Last would likely cause TPK.

Is that you, artwizard?
Sounds good to me, when are we attacking? If we have the time we should probably spend it being merry with our friends, new and old alike
Maybe ask if anyone knows of a guy named <insert fathers name here>. Long shoot but considering the last few days old Last boy has had. Well, crazy stuff has happen. If no one has on to the mission!
That's me, you happy bastard. Haven't touched drawing I think since last time you were running regularly. Still don't know what I'm doing but that's OK, I guess.
holy fuck it's a goddamn Z&W original cast reunion in here
This, ask around for our dad, I had forgotten
Here, seconding >>38304711
Its good to see you back at it again. I was pretty sure once I saw the coloration. Your stuff is always great and I'll never stop wanting sunglasses with that design. Can I use it for the final thread's opener? It would be a pretty fitting way to end this story.

The more I try to draw, the more I realize I too have no idea as to what I'm actually doing. But when I go back in my folder and see where I started, seeing a bit of improvement is what keeps me at it.

Hope you've been doing well. What time is it where you're at? Almost 2am here.
And you're here too, comrade anonymous!
Where's our father, I got a polka theme song:
it's like friggin Red Dwarf. sometimes it just pops up for another few episodes every so often.
I've been waiting years for this conclusion, and I cannot wait
all I'm hoping for is a happy-enough ending for last and hopefully kiara. they deserve it.
Same, Last,, Kiara and Sarna deserve a happy end after this wild ride.
Fucking sweet ass sword get!
Sounds like as good a plan as any.

Oh shit artwizard!
I'm hoping for Last and Kiara getting into the 'cuda and riding off into the sunset somewhere in alaska or northern canada holding hands
Hey, I'm not about to copyright my work. Go ahead.

I'm also much better mentally. Don't have to fight against voices anymore, though I've lost most of my memory. Only big downside to this is that the medication, though fitting, has made me hunger like a hellish beast and as a result I got 50 kilos extra right now. Finally cut the cycle of self destruction and I am losing weight so I can live normally again some day. It's also just a bit to 9 am here.

Is those little wins, man.
On my reread of this I thought about leaving you a message on your deviant art that this was running again, didn't feel right with out you.
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>holding hands
Such lewdness

I always ask before I just use it.

Sounds like you've been through quite the ordeal but good to know things are turning back around for you. I can sympathize with the gaining weight thing. I haven't been hitting the gym nearly as much as I used to, and my diet hasn't changed to match that.

So just waking up or an all-nighter?

What country are you in now?
With a new and to you rather foreign weapon at your side, as opposed to something more familiar like a handgun, you doublecheck the plan and finalize it.

At the advice of the gathered military leaders, you'd deferred to them as to the timing, and they had chosen night.

“The darkness will make the artillery all the more impressive, and conceal your own approach. We will recall the assault one hour after you first signal for your own artillery needs, and then proceed to wait on standby until we hear from you again.”

The tactical retreat of that feint assault had been put in place to assure that not too much of their gathered strength would be lost waiting on you in the event you never came back out, or never managed to arrive. Though as contingency, if the assault goes well, the generals agree that they may decide to abandon the retreat and press the attack.

Thus you find yourself with several hours left of daylight to burn.

So it is that you begin to ask around the camps and entrenched positions about a certain old man you know.

For well over two hours, not a man has any inclination as to who it is you're looking for. Several times you're directed to a few camps over, only to find someone that while aged and slavic, is not your father.

“Just another fat guy...” Sarna puts voice to your own dejection after you roll over a snoozing near-obese man, several empty bottles clinking around to roll across the ground.

It's only when you're finally brought to one certain gathering of tents that you get a feeling that if he's going to be anywhere around here, this is the place.
If the absolute aura of vodka fumes hadn't given it away, the gruff late middle-age men surrounding the place did. You could tell just by the way these guys carried themselves that they weren't just the average grunts.

So it comes as no great surprise when one of the men finally puts out a hand to stop you, the other fist closed loosely around the APS at his hip.
Still in Finland. Just woke up. I have to keep a regular sleeping schedule, or my mind goes haywire.
Man, I haven't even looked in there in ages.
>holding hands
I know you've written some pretty lewd stuff, papa-n, but are you up to something that goes so far?
I wish I could keep a regular sleeping schedule. I just got off the night shifts and tomorrow, well, today I'm back in at 10am.

Finland cold this time of year? It's been around 0 to -10F here before wind chill, couple days closer to -20 which is damn cold for us.

It's been so long since I wrote lewd that I don't even know anymore.

However after a brief conversation, realization dawns on his face.

“You? Alright, this way.”

Several other men attempt to stop you as you're led through the camp, but just as quickly you're allowed on through.

The more of the men you see, the more recognizable it all becomes. There isn't a shred of doubt in your mind as to who these men are. No small amount of them almost certainly ex-KGB.

When you're finally ushered into the largest tent in the area, you notice the gunshots emanating from inside and hesitate for a moment. But knowing there's only one way to be sure, you push through the flap and enter, alone.

The only man in the room appears just as ragged as the inside of the dimly lit canvas enclosure. Though not dimly lit, it's just dark enough for the muzzle flash of the makarov in his hand to be quite pronounced.

His target is simply a few paper plates stapled to the side of several large sandbags stacked at the far end of the tent. You see that despite the nearly empty bottle of vodka in his left hand, the groupings on the plates are tight.

“I know you've never been one to worry about your health, old man, but this is how you get lead poisoning.”

That shaggy gray head turn towards you as the squinting eyes stop to stare for a moment. The man turns back to his targets before tilting his head to look down at the bottle in his hand. At first he moves to set it down on a nearby table, but, apparently thinking better of it, drains the rest before tossing it aside.

“Someone!” He yells, turning his head toward another entrance, “Bring me something to drink! My dead son is here to visit!”
Barely any snow where I live. Sometimes it gets colder but overall it has been rather mild.
I'm a bit jealous. After visiting the keys recently, it was incredibly hard to turn back north. I don't know why people live in this state, I think we're all a bit crazy here.

You aren't sure you've ever seen your father quite this drunk. And if you have, it hasn't been since your mother passed. When he finds a seat, he more falls into it than seats himself.

“If this is heaven, I have to say it really could use a good cleaning up...” Your dad mumbles almost incoherently as he reaches to a bottle of unlabeled brown liquid and pours as much into a glass as he does onto the table.

“And if it's Hell...” He screws his face up before simply raising the glass into the air, leaning back so far in the seat as he does that the folding chair nearly tips off its front legs.

[ ] “Hate to disappoint, but you haven't quite made it to the pearly gates yet. Now pass me one of those glasses.”

[ ] “I would say this isn't Hell, but when I look out at the moon, I'm not quite sure myself.”

[ ] “Don't write me off as dead yet. I may only be half as tough as you, but even that's more than enough.”

[ ] Other?
>i've been dead before, remember? just took me a little longer to get back this time
All of the options, also hug the bastard, its been too long since we've seen hin
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>[ ] “Hate to disappoint, but you haven't quite made it to the pearly gates yet. Now pass me one of those glasses.”
>Still on terra firma old man. Besides I had a long walk on the ocean bottom once and came back. I just lack a witchy in the head this time.
I meant the hug part of >>38305657
These two together. Snark plus affection.
“Hate to disappoint, but you haven't quite made it to the pearly gates yet. I've been dead once before and came back, remember? It just took me a bit longer this time, no witch in my head and all. Now pass me one of those glasses.” You stretch out your fingertips toward one of the dusty glasses and your old man pushes it forward enough for you to grasp, before spilling into and over it what your nose tells you might have been sold under the guise of being bourbon.

When you finally pull it back for a taste, your own hand soaked in the stuff, you think it might be closer to diesel fuel than any bourbon you've ever had.

Despite this, you drain it and reach out for a refill.

This time, however, before you can pull your hand back, the weathered fingers of your old man close around your wrist.

He bobs his head, eyes closed as though searching his lids. There might have been the slightest quiver of his lip, but he holds back from tears.

“You took too long this time, dammit.” He croaks before pulling you out of the chair and into an embrace that smells equal parts alcohol fumes, gunpowder, and human body odor.

Nevertheless, you return it.

“Sorry, cellphones in America aren't working. Most things aren't working, actually. It's a bit of a story.”

“Anton!” Your dad yells after finally pulling away, “Roman! One of you sorry bastards bring me a bottle of the good stuff!”

He nearly tips out of his chair before you steady him with a quick grab.

“Jesus, son. Did you at least find Diego? I haven't talked to him since I left for the motherland.” He squints drunkenly at you but manages to otherwise stay upright with the help of the table against his torso.

“Yeah, he has a new plane.”
While you recall the story about the prior events, the underground beneath the Hoover dam and what you'd found there, everything you've learned and done since, you also manage to covertly switch your father over to water.

As is, you know he'll still be far too wasted to take part in the assault later tonight. So hopefully you can ensure he's soberish by the time you get back.

He listens as intently as someone so inebriated could, interrupting only for some slurred questions. You're actually a bit surprised he's following along as well as he does.

“So she isn't here with you?” He gazes around above your head as though expecting to see some specter floating there.

“Yeah. Like I said, they took her out of me, and that's how I was out for so long.”

Your father nods solemnly through the glass which he has yet to distinguish as water, before gulping it down in one swallow.

“So you're going tonight, then?”

“Yeah, dad, tonight.”

He grinds his teeth together for a moment before slapping a hand around your neck. With his fumbling, inebriated palm he rubs your hair roughly before pulling away.

“Then you'd better make sure you get her back. You sort of owe her that one, eh? And beside that...” He squints up and out one of the window flaps you'd opened, toward the huge moon looming above.

“That thing crashing down would probably wreck your car.”

“Whoa now, hold up.” You stop, suddenly entire sober yourself, “Do you have my car?”
>suddenly entire

Which I'm not.

Hate to say but I have to drag myself out of bed in the morning and should probably get some sleep so I'm not a zombie myself at work later today.

Better than ending during the night assault, I think.
>“Whoa now, hold up.” You stop, suddenly entire sober yourself, “Do you have my car?”
Rescue Kiara wicked awesome car chase in the cuda..

Suddenly boner.
see you later, space cowboy.
we eagerly await the next thread
Thanks for the thread boss. Catch you next thread. Shits getting good.
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That works for me, you should get some sleep. Thanks for the thread bro. I'll get archive.
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see you next thread. love all of y'all
Archive up!
It was a good thread, especially since I started a but later than initially intended. Woke up late.

After Z&W finishes I'll likely do a semi-reboot on Vetr and the ice vikings so anyone not there for the initial threads or needing a refresher can get into it. Not rewinding the story, just summarizing the previous few threads enough where it could act as it's own starting point. It will be a shorter story, never intended it to be all that long.

After that I'm unsure. Possibly this dumb Eva idea I've been toying with, who knows
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>After Z&W finishes
This still saddens me greatly. Still looking forward to it.
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>and Switzerland looks beautiful
I'm sorry for the wanton destruction, but it was too late.

It was always too late
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it'll be a good end, though.
Z&W has been a constant for about 80% of my 4chan time and I'll be sad to see it go, but a good ending like this is a hundred times better than just fading away
heh, I just had to poke fun at that one anon.
At least it will get a proper ending. I mean to be objective and honest, that's sort of a rarity for me. Lord knows I haven't been all that reliable for a long time, but I'm working on that.

Rather than limp the story along, better that it goes out like it began, with a bang of violence, funky colors, and snarky in-head dialogue.
Gen-A got an ending, at least. things did get a little strange for a while there, but hey, it's better now, right?
I personally am okay with it ending even though I like it, well ok as long as it gets random threads with them getting up to wacky adventures later.

Last driving around in the cuda scaring all the forest animals causing Kiara to get mad at him and the like.
>but a good ending like this is a hundred times better than just fading away

And in general, too many quest on this board anymore drag on well past their point for me.

All good man. All good. Like I said looking forward to it and going to love every moment.
Jesus Circuit Decay was a disaster and a half. Cocaines a hellova drug.

It's as likely as Max returning to defend his Owl title. So there's a good chance.
CD wasn't bad but, It was kinda nuts and felt kinda rushed.
ah. I was wondering what was up with that. glad you're clean now. I'm six weeks off the liquor myself
Some guys have some crazy writing stamina. Princess guard is at 268 now, which is insane. Kudos to him, I'm too ADHD to be able to stick with one thing that long.

Mecha Walt Disney was the big bad. I don't think it would have ever gotten better.

It was a struggle that started well before HLQ, even. Part of why I was AWOL for so long. Keep on at it, I know how'd difficult it can be.
yeah. joined a depression support group; once I was working on that, it was a helluva lot easier getting off the booze. when you don't give a shit about anything, a gallon a week of cheap bourbon seems like a great idea. I reckon that if I can stay dry long enough, I'll be able to forget the need for it
Thats called a recap papa, also sulla threads when?
Yeah once you're off it, you gotta stay off it. Otherwise you end up in Mexico.

Anyways I'm off to annoy my Canadian, see you all next thread!
Night bro
surely so. probably if I start again I'll wake up three days down the road in hong kong with a new wife, a couple missing teeth and a few tattoos
see you next thread papa!
I just got off work and caught up, thanks for the thread Papa.

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