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Writefag thread Anonymous 01/05/2023 (Thu) 04:27:36 No. 567
Write your stupid stories here so anons can call you a homosexual.
The void is black, desolute, airless, and without form. The distant starlight is the only thing to see, a billion softly twinkling candles in the eternal night. When he was in acadamy first learning the ins and outs of interstellar travel he'd beeb told that there are more ways to die in space than their are to live, and life hangs constantly by a thin tenous cord of concentration. He snorted at the memory and turned back from the emptiness of the cosmos to his current job. Patching a small hole in the forward cargo area made by some random meteorite or other debris as the great vessel UNN George W. Bush made its trip from the outer asteroid belt back into the inner system. The cruise had begun 4 months back, it had taken a month just to get outsystem, and the patrol having finished was currently heading home. A small relief from being shut in with his own thoughts and the chatter of meaningless conversation from his crewmates. He could almost taste fresh alaskan salmon, though he knew it was his mind decieving him. The fare from the desultory mess was a bland freeze dried gruel most days. "Davis you almost done out there? It's been twenty minutes brother c'mon." Tinnily screeched out of the small reciever in his ear. "Yeah got the patch on just sealing it, maybe another ten minutes Terry." he replied as his hands worked faster to spread the chemically stabilized goop around the plate hed put over the hole. "Well don't linger. We got solar flare activity spiking up. Don't wanna fry brother." Terry muttered back before breaking the connection. "yeah yeah." Jim Davis second class engineer muttered to himself. She was joking about burning up of course. They were so far from the sun that there was no danger there, but the radiation would kill him just as dead through his thin suit. Background radiation it could deal with, but elevated flare levels would see him dead before next chow, a slightly tempting thought to be honest. He was so sick of the food on board it almost seemed worth it. He snorted again at the thought and his stomach rumbled as he mused on that salmon waiting back home again.
The music thumps in his soul. The new brothers speak of half truths and psyops. He knows he cannot explain the truth. He sits and says half truths leading to reality. He expects nothing.
And if I die I will not worry, for my soul was adjudged adamned for I was ever born. This life was rigged from the start, but my lawyer has acquited me of all sin. So speak your worst Satan, You were there for all my transgressions. I fear nothing, and stare my creator in the face with no concern. I did my best with all the knowledge I had at the time.
>>568 >acadamy >beeb proof read your stuff before you post >>572 Very nice
Human history in totality had produced more symbols for death than it had anything else. Though the knowledge of every single symbol would probably be of such a magnitude that knowing anything else would become impossible, but for whatever reason a great many of them had been implanted in Merricks mind through his chapters psycho conditioning. He was aware of at least 2,000 seperate symbols of death. His ruminations on the import of data provided to him are abruptly ruined by a hacking fit. As he wiped his sleeve across his lips he notices a bright arterial red sheen had been left behind instead of saliva. With these spot of color blotting out all thoughts in his head save one. I have been wounded. He looks down across his chest to see his left hand curled up near his stomach. It is covered in glistening red liquid as well. He idly thought that would explain the pain. He looked up and saw he was in a thicket of trees at the edge of field. The field was full of white flowers. His memories began to spool forward once again with a litany on the meaning of this particular symbol of death, but he could not quite follow the information repeating in his head. He had a mission to accomplish still. In the field was a tracked vehicle with rockets on its back, these were elevated and facing skywards. An anti air emplacement. Merrick was a soldier. He remembered that much, though not how he was wounded. And this vehicle was aligned with the forces of the enemy. He could not tell you who that enemy was, or why he was here to kill them. But then again, he had never had to explain either one in his long life. Skulls are the preeminant symbol of death across almost every human culture that had ever existed. A logical symbol, for what better represented a dead human than a dead human? On Merricks on armor were several skull icons. White on his blood red armor. He wondered if this is the reason he knows so much about death symbols. He is covered in them. A sharp pain shoots up his side as he trys to shift his posistion. He thinks he had perhaps lost consciousness briefly, for he know found himself lying with his back to a tree, and a violent new map picked out in ruby red spilling down his mouth and collecting on his breast. A soldier is nothing without a weapon, and these too are used as symbols of death. From the humble harvesters scythe to a romans short sword to a barbarians spear. Weapons have always been symbols of what they do to men. His brow furrowed and creased as an eyebrow came up. He was a soldier. A soldier had a weapon. Logically he must posess a weapon, but a brief survey of his body showed nothing. Empty pouches, pockets, and finally holsters and sheathes. At some point he did have weapons he was sure, but at present he was clearly without them. He wondered if they had fallen from his person as he walked through the woods. He wondered how he knew he had come from there.
Edited last time by Vampyr on 02/07/2023 (Tue) 20:01:14.
This is actually an article but whatever. It was hastily written so it can get a bit repetitive at some points. Apart from that, its probably OK.
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These are my books they are shitposting turned into poetry and it's all in Minecraft don't actually do anything fren blah blah blah. Hope they make you laugh f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /4s8yl4.pdf f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /f21v69.pdf f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /82sced.pdf f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /irz98h.pdf f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /ltjweu.epub f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /lsp6cd.epub f i l e s . c a t b o x . m o e /e41yja.EPUB
I'm missing an epub format for one of them I also have them all in textfiles too haha. They are up on amaZOG if anyone would like to support me buying one it is much appreciated
>>582 You don't need to separate the links' url, we don't ban people for that here
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>>618 Oh cool! Well here they are unspaced out. Thanks to everyone for their patronage/reading of the books amazon.com/dp/B08YJBKRCZ amazon.com/dp/B08LTQNNW4 amazon.com/dp/B08J2R4LD8 amazon.com/dp/B09B1QNGR1 files.catbox.moe/4s8yl4.pdf files.catbox.moe/f21v69.pdf files.catbox.moe/82sced.pdf files.catbox.moe/irz98h.pdf files.catbox.moe/ltjweu.epub files.catbox.moe/lsp6cd.epub files.catbox.moe/e41yja.EPUB
>>656 Oh... Yeah... Uh. I did that. I did.
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>>657 read them
A white strobe of thunder lit the trash strewn alley like the birth of a new God or the muzzle flash of a cheap revolver, revealing in stark bleached detail the detritus of souls damned decades too early, hunchbacked and leering, clothes mismatched and torn, more old tablecloth than coat, covered in the ghosts of old meals scavenged from those hardly better off. The tableau is completed with the look of savage terror in eyes of the young, too young, lost and soon to be tormented, thrill seekers. Bored of a life spent never wanting they have come to see what delights a city after dark can provide. And like a life the light was there and gone, and all thats left is the mighty roar of thunder, or maybe it was a cry of pain, the sounds mingle and become one, and then. Nothing. No sound but the soft murmur of cloth being parted, and then hurried footsteps soon fade to entirely. They alley is devoid of sound and light. It is a vacuum, now awaiting as bad start to someones day, but even that is hours away. Blood pools in small spurts, describing some violent new river on the cobblestones. Soon, too soon, even this ends, and a journey either starts or ends.
At some point I realized the light and me were different, and with that came the beginning of consciousness. I found a hand I had forgotten and reached to my forehead, it came away bloody, concussion, a voice says inside my head. I look up and this time the light moves and indescribable pain lights the back of my brain. I come to again on the ground in my own puke. Not a great start.
The fourth time round I had even remembered my name. The pain hadn't gotten any better though. I was afraid to touch my head again lest I find a hole there and touch my own brain, sure as hell felt like it anyway. Sgt. Kirkegaard. No relation. I had a job... A mission. I'm supposed to be doing something, but the darkness has a comfort all it's own, and soon I find myself coming to for the fifth time.
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WHITE POWER
Tanna Banks, just 19 years old, stood at the entrance of an office building. Her newly earned associates degree and education certificates glimmered in her hand, evidence of her successful journey through the public school system. Her hair fell down her back reaching just below her waist, forming loose curls around her face. Her eyes shone emerald green, framed by long lashes. She wore minimal makeup – only a touch of mascara to accentuate her eyes and a hint of blush on her cheeks. She wore more than what was expected from women: A knee length skirt, not an inch shorter. The blouse clung softly to the bra underneath, sheer fabric revealing it as black and lacey. Full coverage! She insisted within herself. Less than a bikini would show. The skirt was made of flowing material that danced around her legs as she moved. She knew what was expected from her but refused to give in to the lechery. Tanna would show them that a woman is made of more than legs. She stepped into the security office at the lady's entrance with a sigh. "Hi there little girl"! Tom the Guardsman said with a greasy leer. "You know I have to make sure you're not carrying anything." Tom was overweight, middle aged, and a boor. He also had the final say over whether Tanna would get to start her second day on the job. "Your purse" he said, holding out a plastic tray. She reluctantly placed it inside. Instead of just looking inside Tom dumped everything onto a table. Lipstick, tissues, wallet, keys, phone, and some tampons spilled out. He took his time picking up each item. He looked up at her with a smirk, "Well aren't we prepared for anything?" Tanna blushed as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks but kept quiet. "Is this your size?" He picked up the tampon. "That's pretty tight" Her blush deepened into a crimson red. Tom laughed. She could feel his gaze on her, and it made her skin crawl. "Now just step onto the platform here so we can run a scan." he commanded. Tanna hesitated, feeling as if she was about to walk into an ambush. But this was work! This was part of being a woman. An adult. She stepped onto the platform, standing still while it started its scan. Tom hit a button before it got up to her knees. "oops!" he said "Looks like the machine broke! This is going to be a manual inspection" Tanna's heart raced as she looked around desperately for someone else but as her eyes landed on the other guard her heart sank. He looked no older than her and he was practically drooling. She swallowed hard, and steeled herself. Tom approached her, "Just gonna pat you down here to make sure nothing is hidden under your clothes" He put his hand on the inside of her knee and slowly moved it up. Tanna closed her eyes tight, trying not to imagine what she knew was happening. Tom's fingers brushed against her inner thigh, lingering a little too long and then cupped her crotch. "Panties?" he said. "Hey Bob, check this out, I think she's hiding something in here!" He motioned to the other guard who eagerly came over. Bob hesitated only a moment before reaching up her skirt. Tanna bit back a whimper as his hand felt under the gusset and wiggled against her sex. "Let me make sure" Bob said, trying to sound as confident as Tom did. He pulled down her panties to her ankles exposing everything. She couldn't hold it in any longer - tears welled up in her eyes. The two guards snickered at her, but continued their search. After an eternity and Tom's hand under her bra they finished and stepped back. "Well you're all clear" said Tom. "You know, this would go faster if we didn't have all those clothes to look through". Tanna stepped down and fixed her clothes, furiously wiping away the tears. She wouldn't let them see how much it hurt. "I'll remember that next time" she replied in a masked voice. And stepped through the door, 15 minutes late her second day on the job.


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