Intoduction
Actually, I prefer, Wasteland and it's stuff, but I need to post smt here too. I am Follower, after all. So excuse me for my poor Engilish. I'll do my best. (All this stuff is NOT sexual or crimanal or so)... By the way - this is collection of small stories with various main persons, but one author. So enjoy your stay...
Story
"What now?! What should I do now" - cried old ghoul angry. He was trying to draw a picture, but he had neither paint nor smt else. He had only an idea to draw an old world - to keep a good memory about it. But nature was against him. He was looking for some good material, but he lived near some radioactive mines and all was crumbling in dust in his sight. But he was stubborn old bastard and was trying it again and again.
At last he found some very good material. It was easy to obtained, good to work with and never will be destroyed. Old ghoul begin to work and soon enough all was ready - monumental master peice of dust and earth.
Moral - Even the greatest of your ideas can consist of dust and dirt.
Well, that all for now. Of course, it is a small story. I'll write smt else soon
Hard life of post-nuclear artist
Hard life of post-nuclear artist
Last edited by Follower on Fri May 10, 2002 4:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
Night in the Wasteland
Introduction
Well, here you are some more story from my madness... This one is actually old - I post it on an old DUC, but now I am busy and don't want to move my lazy ass...
Well, all this story is rather dull and not funny - some serious, smart shit, I am trying to write, like some Hemingue... HAHA... Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. Excuse me for my poor English. I'll do my best
Story
Cold wind was blowing strongly. Heavy, yellow dust was raised into the air by it. Sturdy, lifeless wasteland lay everywhere in one's sight. It's monotonus pictures of endless sand and dead trees sometimes was iterrupted by pile of junk or other some stuff - remains of the past. Some old man was noticed near one of this piles.
"It was damned good sunset" - he said sadly, looking at the sky. It was consumed by heavy, grey clouds, gathered by strong northern wind. Last sparks of sun had disappeared under it. The air became old. Dark sky was covered with usual silence. Night was coming...
Old man was siting near the fire and was watching after it. In cold, dark wasteland only this spark of life could bring heat. Old dirty wood was burning badly. Small fire was dancing rapidly under the strong wind and could go out in every minute. But there were no other wood in these parts of wasteland: not so many trees, most of them were useless. So even these wood, he had, were not enough to support fire for a long time...
Northern wind was strong, much stronger, then old man had waited. His torn and dirty clothes were not able keep any warmth. Small fire didn't give any heat. In long, dark nights, like that, old man liked to think about the past - when a world was green and warm, when everybody had a good home and food on the breakfast - hunger tormented him strongly. Even insects and small lizards left these dead lands - his father liked to tell him about the past, especially when it was hungry, bad times...
Heavy clouds were hanging in the night sky. The stars and even the moon were not seen. Darkness consumed all the wasteland and only fire of an old man was lightening it up. Old man was watching after the fire and was trying to forget about his current situation. Beatiful dance of fire hypnoized him and he forgot about everything.
It was a very dangerous mistake. Somewhere near was heard a loud hungry houling - fire was noticed by some night animal:
"Oh yeah, come closer,pal... I know how to take care about it, - said an old man quitly. He took a well-used shotgun and shot twice in air. There were no problems from this beasts anymore.
Usually there were no problems in these northern parts so far from any food sources or big cities. Old man met sometimes wolfes, gecko or lonely raider, but nothing worse. But then he noticed some movement. He began notice large shadows in the dark, nameless ugly creatures on the distance... But they caused him no troubles so he left them alone...
Time was runing slowly, but unstopable. The sky had lightened up, but the fire was gone. Coldness and weakness took him, old man could not move. Heart was beating slowly, but is was ordinary business in his age:
"All is fine. When sun will come I'll be fine...as usual", - thought he, trying to return his body to himself. Soon he was able to sit on the large scrap of metal, warmed by fire.
Another day was coming. The sky had cleared himself and the sun was seen learly. It's large bright disc was appearing on the sky and an old man was watching this majestic sight with no words. Few left clouds were coloured then in beatiful colours. Wasteland was alive too. World was magnificent and new again, like it was witnessed by his ancesters...
Old man was siting and watching it. His cold body was motionless. His last breath had already vanished in the air but his blanky eyes still was watching this grand view... A lonely tear was mirroring it's light...
The End
Well, here you are some more story from my madness... This one is actually old - I post it on an old DUC, but now I am busy and don't want to move my lazy ass...
Well, all this story is rather dull and not funny - some serious, smart shit, I am trying to write, like some Hemingue... HAHA... Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. Excuse me for my poor English. I'll do my best
Story
Cold wind was blowing strongly. Heavy, yellow dust was raised into the air by it. Sturdy, lifeless wasteland lay everywhere in one's sight. It's monotonus pictures of endless sand and dead trees sometimes was iterrupted by pile of junk or other some stuff - remains of the past. Some old man was noticed near one of this piles.
"It was damned good sunset" - he said sadly, looking at the sky. It was consumed by heavy, grey clouds, gathered by strong northern wind. Last sparks of sun had disappeared under it. The air became old. Dark sky was covered with usual silence. Night was coming...
Old man was siting near the fire and was watching after it. In cold, dark wasteland only this spark of life could bring heat. Old dirty wood was burning badly. Small fire was dancing rapidly under the strong wind and could go out in every minute. But there were no other wood in these parts of wasteland: not so many trees, most of them were useless. So even these wood, he had, were not enough to support fire for a long time...
Northern wind was strong, much stronger, then old man had waited. His torn and dirty clothes were not able keep any warmth. Small fire didn't give any heat. In long, dark nights, like that, old man liked to think about the past - when a world was green and warm, when everybody had a good home and food on the breakfast - hunger tormented him strongly. Even insects and small lizards left these dead lands - his father liked to tell him about the past, especially when it was hungry, bad times...
Heavy clouds were hanging in the night sky. The stars and even the moon were not seen. Darkness consumed all the wasteland and only fire of an old man was lightening it up. Old man was watching after the fire and was trying to forget about his current situation. Beatiful dance of fire hypnoized him and he forgot about everything.
It was a very dangerous mistake. Somewhere near was heard a loud hungry houling - fire was noticed by some night animal:
"Oh yeah, come closer,pal... I know how to take care about it, - said an old man quitly. He took a well-used shotgun and shot twice in air. There were no problems from this beasts anymore.
Usually there were no problems in these northern parts so far from any food sources or big cities. Old man met sometimes wolfes, gecko or lonely raider, but nothing worse. But then he noticed some movement. He began notice large shadows in the dark, nameless ugly creatures on the distance... But they caused him no troubles so he left them alone...
Time was runing slowly, but unstopable. The sky had lightened up, but the fire was gone. Coldness and weakness took him, old man could not move. Heart was beating slowly, but is was ordinary business in his age:
"All is fine. When sun will come I'll be fine...as usual", - thought he, trying to return his body to himself. Soon he was able to sit on the large scrap of metal, warmed by fire.
Another day was coming. The sky had cleared himself and the sun was seen learly. It's large bright disc was appearing on the sky and an old man was watching this majestic sight with no words. Few left clouds were coloured then in beatiful colours. Wasteland was alive too. World was magnificent and new again, like it was witnessed by his ancesters...
Old man was siting and watching it. His cold body was motionless. His last breath had already vanished in the air but his blanky eyes still was watching this grand view... A lonely tear was mirroring it's light...
The End
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
Two bullets for Gecko...
Sorry for another dull story, I am in a bad mood.
Story
"I like my home... Oh, I like my home much..." - middleaged supermutant was coming home, singing his own song. It looked like that there was no rhyme in these words, but it concrened him little. He had found his peacful home at last, he was a good friend of local people, he was free from these mad "Knights of Steel", who was tracking him for some monthes - but, what was most important - he was happy...
Day was bad, but that fella didn't care about it. His large, strong body was almost naked and chill desert wind was blowing strongly...
"Uhhh, Cold... My home - good..." - he came to his large, handmaden cave and closed the enterance with heavy stone. Tasty, warm breakfast and bright flame were welcoming him...
Another lonely day was waiting for him. There were no visitors in that day - peasants were busy, harvesting bad crops; military guards had problems with raiders - they had no need in his strength for now, so they left him alone... And it was good for him... But sometimes he wanted smt; smt, he couldn't explain or understand. He wanted to talk with smb, do smt - to feel again that he is part of smt more, like it was in army of the Master... But he couldn't understand it and that unknowness tortured him all these lonely days...
But that day was different. There were the same weather, the same food - lovely crushed rat and some green tasty ooze - but smt had changed. Mutie felt it... He nervously got up and looked around. All was the same - an old chair, rusty bad from two large pieces of broken car, small fireplace... The smell - it was the smell, that troubled him. There were people somewhere near... And they were hiding...
"Bad people... Knights..." - he had growled angryly and had taken large piece of metal tube...
"Hey, Jeck, you said that there were a lot of geckos it these parts. But I see noone except you... Do you know what does it mean? - asked a young weather-beaten traveler his more experienced old friend.
"It means that you should shut your bloody hail up. With such your attitude we will catch only a deathclaw or some mutie... I heard that there had been one somewhere here..." - answered he grimly.
"Oh, stop it... Once again you are talking like my father - try to relax..."
"There is no time for that. You wanted to see real hunt in Wastes and so here you are... And now shut up and listen. Death can come from every side here..."
Young man wanted to answer smt, but noticed an displeased look of his friend and became silent...
They were hiding on the high cliff of the mountain, looking for some animal. Cold, rainy day was a bad sign for the mood of them... And there were no animals there... Time was passing and the young one was becoming more and more agitated... His friend kept silent but his look was bad. Sometimes he looked at his young friend and his face became very evil... That had to be ended somehow...
"That's it... I am going home to Junktown. There is nothing here, but sand and your blasted lessons..." - had shouted young man finally - "I am not going..."
His friend looked at him and grinning:
"Your father was right... as always. We came all that way to reach that place and now you cann't wait for another several hours... Ok, go home. I don't want to nurse you... Go home."
"I..." - young man wanted to answer smt, but he had nothing to say... He turned off and went away...
Old man was standing on the cliff and was watching as an young man was leaving the mountain... The rought pass was jumping from one side to another and he lost his young friend from his sight several times. In one of that times he suddenly had heard two gunshot and loud animal growl... With all haste he was able on an old man had run to his friend... He noticed him, standing near smt big... The young man was smiling and pointing on an body of huge supermutant:
"Two bullets for Gecko - directly to the eyes..."
Sorry for another dull story, I am in a bad mood.
Story
"I like my home... Oh, I like my home much..." - middleaged supermutant was coming home, singing his own song. It looked like that there was no rhyme in these words, but it concrened him little. He had found his peacful home at last, he was a good friend of local people, he was free from these mad "Knights of Steel", who was tracking him for some monthes - but, what was most important - he was happy...
Day was bad, but that fella didn't care about it. His large, strong body was almost naked and chill desert wind was blowing strongly...
"Uhhh, Cold... My home - good..." - he came to his large, handmaden cave and closed the enterance with heavy stone. Tasty, warm breakfast and bright flame were welcoming him...
Another lonely day was waiting for him. There were no visitors in that day - peasants were busy, harvesting bad crops; military guards had problems with raiders - they had no need in his strength for now, so they left him alone... And it was good for him... But sometimes he wanted smt; smt, he couldn't explain or understand. He wanted to talk with smb, do smt - to feel again that he is part of smt more, like it was in army of the Master... But he couldn't understand it and that unknowness tortured him all these lonely days...
But that day was different. There were the same weather, the same food - lovely crushed rat and some green tasty ooze - but smt had changed. Mutie felt it... He nervously got up and looked around. All was the same - an old chair, rusty bad from two large pieces of broken car, small fireplace... The smell - it was the smell, that troubled him. There were people somewhere near... And they were hiding...
"Bad people... Knights..." - he had growled angryly and had taken large piece of metal tube...
"Hey, Jeck, you said that there were a lot of geckos it these parts. But I see noone except you... Do you know what does it mean? - asked a young weather-beaten traveler his more experienced old friend.
"It means that you should shut your bloody hail up. With such your attitude we will catch only a deathclaw or some mutie... I heard that there had been one somewhere here..." - answered he grimly.
"Oh, stop it... Once again you are talking like my father - try to relax..."
"There is no time for that. You wanted to see real hunt in Wastes and so here you are... And now shut up and listen. Death can come from every side here..."
Young man wanted to answer smt, but noticed an displeased look of his friend and became silent...
They were hiding on the high cliff of the mountain, looking for some animal. Cold, rainy day was a bad sign for the mood of them... And there were no animals there... Time was passing and the young one was becoming more and more agitated... His friend kept silent but his look was bad. Sometimes he looked at his young friend and his face became very evil... That had to be ended somehow...
"That's it... I am going home to Junktown. There is nothing here, but sand and your blasted lessons..." - had shouted young man finally - "I am not going..."
His friend looked at him and grinning:
"Your father was right... as always. We came all that way to reach that place and now you cann't wait for another several hours... Ok, go home. I don't want to nurse you... Go home."
"I..." - young man wanted to answer smt, but he had nothing to say... He turned off and went away...
Old man was standing on the cliff and was watching as an young man was leaving the mountain... The rought pass was jumping from one side to another and he lost his young friend from his sight several times. In one of that times he suddenly had heard two gunshot and loud animal growl... With all haste he was able on an old man had run to his friend... He noticed him, standing near smt big... The young man was smiling and pointing on an body of huge supermutant:
"Two bullets for Gecko - directly to the eyes..."
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
Hard Life of Post Nuclear Artist
Introduction
Finally I'll post the story with original name of the topic. Now I have really bad mood and I'll write especially "funny" story. I like to laugh at fate, when it fucks me... There is some jokes in that story, you must believe me - simply you must read all that stuff REALLY attentively.
Story
Noises of blasted casino was heard even here - in small dirty room of older artist. The ringing of playmachines, loud voices of patrons and customers, mocking mutters of guards... Old fella spent all his life in casinos of New Reno and knew all that stuff very well.
"Your time, joker. Go and entertain our public..." - hard voice had been heard from the door. He was waiting this time and even than he was nervous, as in first time:
"In these casinos you never know if you'll survive your next day... I hate this den..." - said older man. He heard laughs of public, he remembered times, when he could entertain the pubic well. But than all had changed, a new people, new jokes, new drugs... Younger artists appeared with more talents or bigger guns, than he had...
An old man hated all this life - Constant fight for public and favor, all that stuff with Jet, a lot of bad jokes... Sometimes he saw these guys, he sent to Golgotha... Even the reminder about that place made him nervous. He didn't like what he had to do, but than people(criminals, sluts, druggers...) began to fear him... but an artists couldn't get it for all times. Laughs of public, smiles of patrons - they were laughing at him and not about his jokes...
"Hey you, old gecko, your time is coming. Move your ass..." - was heard the same voice again.
"Shut up, Myron. May be Bishop like your ass, but it would not make you invincible..." - answered he angryly. "These young blood is becoming too hot for me; I was lucky, that Bishop took my person... but the price was high indeed..." - muttered old artist, reading his monologue again.
... Cries of angry people, gunshots, a lot of noise... "How can smb do anything in this sh..." - he quickly took his good-used 10mm pistol and waited for some time. All was calm...
"Another useless fight... These Salvatore's guys will get some real buttkicking soon... Oh, nevermind, show must go on, as it was said in one old song..." - he took his old, battered coat, as was his own life, put his weapon in his hand and went to the door...
"What the matter, Myron. Big boy afraid of bullets" - he said to an youngster, who was hiding near his door.
"Shut up, fool. Soon enough my talents will be appreciated and your ass will be cooked like these guys over there..."
"Yeah, sure. You should wake up, boy. This place is called New Reno... or hell. Let's go, show is coming..." - an old artist left Myron on the dirty floor of casino...
Introduction
Finally I'll post the story with original name of the topic. Now I have really bad mood and I'll write especially "funny" story. I like to laugh at fate, when it fucks me... There is some jokes in that story, you must believe me - simply you must read all that stuff REALLY attentively.
Story
Noises of blasted casino was heard even here - in small dirty room of older artist. The ringing of playmachines, loud voices of patrons and customers, mocking mutters of guards... Old fella spent all his life in casinos of New Reno and knew all that stuff very well.
"Your time, joker. Go and entertain our public..." - hard voice had been heard from the door. He was waiting this time and even than he was nervous, as in first time:
"In these casinos you never know if you'll survive your next day... I hate this den..." - said older man. He heard laughs of public, he remembered times, when he could entertain the pubic well. But than all had changed, a new people, new jokes, new drugs... Younger artists appeared with more talents or bigger guns, than he had...
An old man hated all this life - Constant fight for public and favor, all that stuff with Jet, a lot of bad jokes... Sometimes he saw these guys, he sent to Golgotha... Even the reminder about that place made him nervous. He didn't like what he had to do, but than people(criminals, sluts, druggers...) began to fear him... but an artists couldn't get it for all times. Laughs of public, smiles of patrons - they were laughing at him and not about his jokes...
"Hey you, old gecko, your time is coming. Move your ass..." - was heard the same voice again.
"Shut up, Myron. May be Bishop like your ass, but it would not make you invincible..." - answered he angryly. "These young blood is becoming too hot for me; I was lucky, that Bishop took my person... but the price was high indeed..." - muttered old artist, reading his monologue again.
... Cries of angry people, gunshots, a lot of noise... "How can smb do anything in this sh..." - he quickly took his good-used 10mm pistol and waited for some time. All was calm...
"Another useless fight... These Salvatore's guys will get some real buttkicking soon... Oh, nevermind, show must go on, as it was said in one old song..." - he took his old, battered coat, as was his own life, put his weapon in his hand and went to the door...
"What the matter, Myron. Big boy afraid of bullets" - he said to an youngster, who was hiding near his door.
"Shut up, fool. Soon enough my talents will be appreciated and your ass will be cooked like these guys over there..."
"Yeah, sure. You should wake up, boy. This place is called New Reno... or hell. Let's go, show is coming..." - an old artist left Myron on the dirty floor of casino...
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
Dream about Dream
Story
An experienced, middleaged traveller came to the small mining town. It's large and ruined buildings were seen far away from the Wasteland. The people came here from all sides of Wastes to share the dream of the Unity...
Town was dead - there was no reason to live in that cursed place, full of radiation and awful monster. Even weather was hot and waterless: no rains, no clouds - only damned sun and sand. This place was called Ferro, but it can be also called Hell. People lived and died here too often...
Why should smb came here? This question was asked by many and they came here as fools, trying to understand it - rumors about rich mines full of gold, rumors about the whole lake of pure water somewhere under the core of the nearbymountains... rumors about good place to live - many believe in that shit and join the other ones, who feed scorpions in the Wasteland...
But there was another reason to came here - some time ago here appeared some man, who offered protection and free lifespace - the suggestion was damned good. A traveller wanted to find some place to settle and this one was good enough. Who was it or what was the price of such life was not important - he wanted to find some peace.
A traveller entered the town looked - this place was too dead for thriving community, he was told about. But it was the same place - there could be no mistake. An old, crumbeling from time and hot winds, buildings; poor, hungry people with grim look; several guards with evil smiles:
"Another seeker of Dream" - were heard words of one of them.
Traveler could take care about myself. He pulled out his old shot gun and showed it to everybody in that place. It would keep him from problems for some time. He came to one of the local guards and asked him:
"Where is mayor of that town? I need to find..."
"Go to hell, stranger. There is no law in this town. If you want to see mayor, cheriff or some other smart asses you should visit our graveyard. They are waiting for you - that's for sure. Well, you get there soon anyway" - he smiled evily and turned away.
"With such attitude you'll get there more quickly than I am" - answered traveler, but got no answer...
He liked this stuff lesser. He stood near the ruined town hall - business were even worser, than he thought. There were no real power in that town, but who was the law here? Who emplyed all these guards? The answer was simple:
"Goshua, bishop of this new religion - the Unity. It looks like he don't care about that city much." - middleaged man said and went looking for him.
Traveller entered big, almost empty building of that blasted cult. Guards at the enterance even didn't ask him what was his purpose here. They were talking about smt and they were to busy - they simply didn't care about him... or smb else even more. This town was dead already.
"So, it's you Goshua..." - he said blanky. Traveller watched after the young priest who was reading smt to several of his hungry listeners. They thought that all this stuff would feed them...
"Again I see your face... bastard... Another name, another dead town. You kill people with your foolish religion; they follow you to the death - Unity, brotherhood of humans and ghouls... You'll kill no more men..." - he whispered... "I'll get promised piece..."
Traveller was fleeing from that dead town. Now it will disappear completly and will apear another ghost town:
"All is better... His ideas was good, but madness consumed even that good soul. This fanatic was dangerous... Farewell, old friend. I hope that great brotherhood of steel will accept soul of his humble servant and loyal friend..."
Traveller threw away blooded insignia and ran away, hiding from guards.
In several days all was ended. Town disappered, people went away, looking for new home, this story was forgotten... only dried piece of clothes lay in sand
Story
An experienced, middleaged traveller came to the small mining town. It's large and ruined buildings were seen far away from the Wasteland. The people came here from all sides of Wastes to share the dream of the Unity...
Town was dead - there was no reason to live in that cursed place, full of radiation and awful monster. Even weather was hot and waterless: no rains, no clouds - only damned sun and sand. This place was called Ferro, but it can be also called Hell. People lived and died here too often...
Why should smb came here? This question was asked by many and they came here as fools, trying to understand it - rumors about rich mines full of gold, rumors about the whole lake of pure water somewhere under the core of the nearbymountains... rumors about good place to live - many believe in that shit and join the other ones, who feed scorpions in the Wasteland...
But there was another reason to came here - some time ago here appeared some man, who offered protection and free lifespace - the suggestion was damned good. A traveller wanted to find some place to settle and this one was good enough. Who was it or what was the price of such life was not important - he wanted to find some peace.
A traveller entered the town looked - this place was too dead for thriving community, he was told about. But it was the same place - there could be no mistake. An old, crumbeling from time and hot winds, buildings; poor, hungry people with grim look; several guards with evil smiles:
"Another seeker of Dream" - were heard words of one of them.
Traveler could take care about myself. He pulled out his old shot gun and showed it to everybody in that place. It would keep him from problems for some time. He came to one of the local guards and asked him:
"Where is mayor of that town? I need to find..."
"Go to hell, stranger. There is no law in this town. If you want to see mayor, cheriff or some other smart asses you should visit our graveyard. They are waiting for you - that's for sure. Well, you get there soon anyway" - he smiled evily and turned away.
"With such attitude you'll get there more quickly than I am" - answered traveler, but got no answer...
He liked this stuff lesser. He stood near the ruined town hall - business were even worser, than he thought. There were no real power in that town, but who was the law here? Who emplyed all these guards? The answer was simple:
"Goshua, bishop of this new religion - the Unity. It looks like he don't care about that city much." - middleaged man said and went looking for him.
Traveller entered big, almost empty building of that blasted cult. Guards at the enterance even didn't ask him what was his purpose here. They were talking about smt and they were to busy - they simply didn't care about him... or smb else even more. This town was dead already.
"So, it's you Goshua..." - he said blanky. Traveller watched after the young priest who was reading smt to several of his hungry listeners. They thought that all this stuff would feed them...
"Again I see your face... bastard... Another name, another dead town. You kill people with your foolish religion; they follow you to the death - Unity, brotherhood of humans and ghouls... You'll kill no more men..." - he whispered... "I'll get promised piece..."
Traveller was fleeing from that dead town. Now it will disappear completly and will apear another ghost town:
"All is better... His ideas was good, but madness consumed even that good soul. This fanatic was dangerous... Farewell, old friend. I hope that great brotherhood of steel will accept soul of his humble servant and loyal friend..."
Traveller threw away blooded insignia and ran away, hiding from guards.
In several days all was ended. Town disappered, people went away, looking for new home, this story was forgotten... only dried piece of clothes lay in sand
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
I had really bad day now - one story is in order. This is my way to relax... Several days ago I heard one phrase - "one smile can change the world" - , that became the idea of title of this my story. In bad mood my imagintaion play very "funny" jokes with me...
Last smile
Story
An calm hum of old flies was heard all the time. They somehow get to that underground base, and now they were enjoying their's short lifes. All chaos and fear of surrounding life was foreign to them...
"Why should them worry? They will live even after all this shit..?" - thought a young man, watching after one lonely fly. It flew to the monitor and fired with quite noise, - "Another victim in that fucking day..."
Young soldier had a post in a nuclear missle post. He didn't hear fresh news for several months, but he could understand that smt is wrong by the grim look on the faces of his comrades and higher officers. He cursed his job - he was corrector of nuclear weapons - which prevented him from talking with smb. He was talking all the time only with one person - one damn smart computer (all nukes of that base were at his disposal)... New present of war - these stupid bastards gave future of all world in hands of that piece of junk and inexperienced boy - his proviser and biological helper...
Young soldier looked at his mechanical friend with hatred. He wanted to be with his friends in China. He signed in army not to spent all the time in safe of base, hearing about troubled rumors... He heard that the war began, he heard that nukes should be ready, but it was shit - nobody will dare to use it... he heard that USA had some problems, but...
"What the matter, boy. Your troubled look worry my greatly" - an gray console said. Soldier looked blanky at him and smiled with sorrow:
"All is fine, comp, you know that all will be fine..."
"Yes, this stuff is programmed in me, but you know that smt is happening... you can't keep it. My connection with world net is closed, most of bases arms are used. I hadn't recieve any new mails, commands or news... May be I am not very smart guy, but even I can understand that smt is wrong..." - an calm, emotionless voice of computer made soldier nervous. He had very bad feelings about it, but he smiled after all and said:
"All will be fine, pal. You know - we had even worser situations..."
It was a hard day. He didn't see any men that day. Hot air of undeground base made him mad. He spent a whole year under the ground and he couldn't bare it any more. He wanted to see a real sun, green grass, fresh air, blue sky... alive voice of the human - hated voice of the computer followed him even in his dreams. He was chosen as emotionaly resistant to all problems, but even that was helpless against it.
Smt was really happening... Men were running in all sides with their small businesses. They tried to cry, told smt to each other, do smt, but one thing prevented all their tries...
"I see panic, boy. They afraid of smt..." - said comp again - "I sense great trouble... if some collection of bytes as me can sense smt. They turned on all my systems of defense. Is it a good sign? What do you think... Hey boy, where are you going?!" - troubled voice of his mechanical friend followed young boy all the time. Small dynamikes repeated his words, but he had no answer on his question. Soldier couldn't bare it any more - he watched for other men from lifeless displays for all his current life; he had to do smt...
Troubled hum of dozens of people was heard from everywhere. Their loud voices were repeated by walls of underground complex and rushed at poor boy:
"WAR... It can't be." - young boy can't believe in it. "It's my dream... it's my mad fantasies. I am with that iron bastard now in that dead trap... I am..."
"What a hell you doing here, moron? Are you crasy - world will rush all his shit on us now and you are hanging you sorry ass here..." - large man in metal armour appeared before him. This bastard, known as second in command of that base, kept him on his post all that blasted year...
"I want... I demand to know what is happening, capt..." - soldier said angryly, but get strong blow in face.
"You DEMAND, puppy. Blasted motherfucker, fools like you betrayed our country. Real war began, but you willn't see it. I'll teach you how to leave your post, I than I'll take care..." - his grinning face changed. He held his laser gun, pointing in his chest. In his face appeared some mad look, his smile became evil...
Young soldier looked in eyes of his former commander and waiting for his death. It will bring final rest and make that balsted voice of computer to shut up. He waited for it - one minute... another one.
"What does he await?" - he thought with trouble and looked in his face, but there was no sighs of mercy or thoughts. His cold eyes looked at him without emotions. His death would come - there were no doubts in it. Quite shot was heard - he closed his eyes with fear...
That emotionless blasted voice bothered him even after the death. Than some cry of horror was heard. A lot of hurry footsteps of many people disappered in distance. All became silent and the same voice was heard again:
"All is fine, boy. Go - I never liked him too" - soldier opened his eyes and noticed dead body, who stood before him. Smoking wound of laser turret was seen in his shell.
Base was empty. All people left in panic. Soldier saw signes of mas struggle for food and equipment. Several bodies as proofs of that lied on his way.
"And they were disciplined soldiers. I wonder what is happening in other world?!" - he said grimly and come further.
The enterance was near. He was able to sense fresh air... and smell of burn flesh and noises of battle. They were atacked. Finally he would take part in fun. Soldier pulled out his weapon and ran there...
Loud hum of guns was heard too good. Cries of fallen men and explosions full the air of the battle. Crasy, mercyless and pointless battle were fought. There were no allies or enemies any more - everybody became your enemy and you had to kill all these madmen, became mad from blood and fear. All was lost - cries of his fallen friends followed the soldier. He ran away from it's horror. He wanted to fight, but now...
"What the matter, boy. Return to momy's skirt." - young boy coundn't believe it, but he heard the sarcasm in words of that computer... He returned "home". He cowardly escaped the battle and hated himself, but he couldn't do smt else... He looked at the console and smiled. Large red button was untouched, but it was prepared for use. He looked at it for a whole year with fear, but now it looked funny:
"Large sing of "Don't push" could be put here" - he with strange smile.
"All soldiers, return to base - PLANE A is in order, Soldier #149f02, be ready. Program "Last smile" is in order" - said console.
"This is madness. Stop it" - cried smb in response by radio, but soldier only said - "I am ready..." and turned off radio.
"So, that's it?! Farewell than. Are you sure that you want to do it - it will begin smt really bad..." - were heard the last words of computer, before it was turned off by the main program.
"It began already" - he answered with smile, hearing quite hum of flying nuckes...
Last smile
Story
An calm hum of old flies was heard all the time. They somehow get to that underground base, and now they were enjoying their's short lifes. All chaos and fear of surrounding life was foreign to them...
"Why should them worry? They will live even after all this shit..?" - thought a young man, watching after one lonely fly. It flew to the monitor and fired with quite noise, - "Another victim in that fucking day..."
Young soldier had a post in a nuclear missle post. He didn't hear fresh news for several months, but he could understand that smt is wrong by the grim look on the faces of his comrades and higher officers. He cursed his job - he was corrector of nuclear weapons - which prevented him from talking with smb. He was talking all the time only with one person - one damn smart computer (all nukes of that base were at his disposal)... New present of war - these stupid bastards gave future of all world in hands of that piece of junk and inexperienced boy - his proviser and biological helper...
Young soldier looked at his mechanical friend with hatred. He wanted to be with his friends in China. He signed in army not to spent all the time in safe of base, hearing about troubled rumors... He heard that the war began, he heard that nukes should be ready, but it was shit - nobody will dare to use it... he heard that USA had some problems, but...
"What the matter, boy. Your troubled look worry my greatly" - an gray console said. Soldier looked blanky at him and smiled with sorrow:
"All is fine, comp, you know that all will be fine..."
"Yes, this stuff is programmed in me, but you know that smt is happening... you can't keep it. My connection with world net is closed, most of bases arms are used. I hadn't recieve any new mails, commands or news... May be I am not very smart guy, but even I can understand that smt is wrong..." - an calm, emotionless voice of computer made soldier nervous. He had very bad feelings about it, but he smiled after all and said:
"All will be fine, pal. You know - we had even worser situations..."
It was a hard day. He didn't see any men that day. Hot air of undeground base made him mad. He spent a whole year under the ground and he couldn't bare it any more. He wanted to see a real sun, green grass, fresh air, blue sky... alive voice of the human - hated voice of the computer followed him even in his dreams. He was chosen as emotionaly resistant to all problems, but even that was helpless against it.
Smt was really happening... Men were running in all sides with their small businesses. They tried to cry, told smt to each other, do smt, but one thing prevented all their tries...
"I see panic, boy. They afraid of smt..." - said comp again - "I sense great trouble... if some collection of bytes as me can sense smt. They turned on all my systems of defense. Is it a good sign? What do you think... Hey boy, where are you going?!" - troubled voice of his mechanical friend followed young boy all the time. Small dynamikes repeated his words, but he had no answer on his question. Soldier couldn't bare it any more - he watched for other men from lifeless displays for all his current life; he had to do smt...
Troubled hum of dozens of people was heard from everywhere. Their loud voices were repeated by walls of underground complex and rushed at poor boy:
"WAR... It can't be." - young boy can't believe in it. "It's my dream... it's my mad fantasies. I am with that iron bastard now in that dead trap... I am..."
"What a hell you doing here, moron? Are you crasy - world will rush all his shit on us now and you are hanging you sorry ass here..." - large man in metal armour appeared before him. This bastard, known as second in command of that base, kept him on his post all that blasted year...
"I want... I demand to know what is happening, capt..." - soldier said angryly, but get strong blow in face.
"You DEMAND, puppy. Blasted motherfucker, fools like you betrayed our country. Real war began, but you willn't see it. I'll teach you how to leave your post, I than I'll take care..." - his grinning face changed. He held his laser gun, pointing in his chest. In his face appeared some mad look, his smile became evil...
Young soldier looked in eyes of his former commander and waiting for his death. It will bring final rest and make that balsted voice of computer to shut up. He waited for it - one minute... another one.
"What does he await?" - he thought with trouble and looked in his face, but there was no sighs of mercy or thoughts. His cold eyes looked at him without emotions. His death would come - there were no doubts in it. Quite shot was heard - he closed his eyes with fear...
That emotionless blasted voice bothered him even after the death. Than some cry of horror was heard. A lot of hurry footsteps of many people disappered in distance. All became silent and the same voice was heard again:
"All is fine, boy. Go - I never liked him too" - soldier opened his eyes and noticed dead body, who stood before him. Smoking wound of laser turret was seen in his shell.
Base was empty. All people left in panic. Soldier saw signes of mas struggle for food and equipment. Several bodies as proofs of that lied on his way.
"And they were disciplined soldiers. I wonder what is happening in other world?!" - he said grimly and come further.
The enterance was near. He was able to sense fresh air... and smell of burn flesh and noises of battle. They were atacked. Finally he would take part in fun. Soldier pulled out his weapon and ran there...
Loud hum of guns was heard too good. Cries of fallen men and explosions full the air of the battle. Crasy, mercyless and pointless battle were fought. There were no allies or enemies any more - everybody became your enemy and you had to kill all these madmen, became mad from blood and fear. All was lost - cries of his fallen friends followed the soldier. He ran away from it's horror. He wanted to fight, but now...
"What the matter, boy. Return to momy's skirt." - young boy coundn't believe it, but he heard the sarcasm in words of that computer... He returned "home". He cowardly escaped the battle and hated himself, but he couldn't do smt else... He looked at the console and smiled. Large red button was untouched, but it was prepared for use. He looked at it for a whole year with fear, but now it looked funny:
"Large sing of "Don't push" could be put here" - he with strange smile.
"All soldiers, return to base - PLANE A is in order, Soldier #149f02, be ready. Program "Last smile" is in order" - said console.
"This is madness. Stop it" - cried smb in response by radio, but soldier only said - "I am ready..." and turned off radio.
"So, that's it?! Farewell than. Are you sure that you want to do it - it will begin smt really bad..." - were heard the last words of computer, before it was turned off by the main program.
"It began already" - he answered with smile, hearing quite hum of flying nuckes...
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
With horror I watch after my gramar mistakes through my posts. Sorry, my English is bad. I hope you understand at least smt... if smb really interested in it... Some time ago I found another source of inspiration. I am sure some of you know serie - Dragonlance. It's quite famous. Yeah, this stuff is good; rather childish, but good. Some essense of FO will make good work with it. Right now I am working on some big story about Dragons, Magic and all that stuff. Don't worry, I shalln't torture you with it. It's only for my personal use - way to release childish fantasies or smt like that... Anyway, another story is coming. I haven't posted anything here for a long time. I don't know - I begin to be bored. May be I should stop it? Well, several stories more and enough of it...
First steps
Story
"Hey you, waste of food. Time to get up or the gecko will run away" - an older woman with grey hair said. Her tender, but strong hands made an young girl to wake up:
"It's too early, matron mother. The sun hasn't risen up yet. All other villagers are sleeping. Why should I get up?" - she answered unwillingly, but serious and persistant look of that older woman made her stand up.
"You are a 12 years old, girl." - she said with sad look. - "It's time for you to learn how to live alone." - she looked at her with proud and than added with smile - "You have an important day today - your first hunting alone... You are the strong and smart girl. Several boys have noticed it already..." - she looked at her embarassed face and smiled - "Yes, an old and blind mother know smt... Anyway, it will be one of your most important days in your life, girl. Get up and prepare for the hunt. You will need all your strength today. Go with peace and good luck... my daughter." - she looked at her seriously and left the tent.
Young girl didn't want to leave warm bed and go to the cold wasteland, harsh life of the desert, but she had to do it. She understood that her mother was right. Young girl stood up, took her handmade spear and throw the last look at her former tent. It was used as a childish room for small children. Several of them of different age were sleeping calmly in the other corner of it. Some of elder children were playing with their new toys - knifes and darts at the look of their theacher. One of them was her brother. He was very talented and gifted. He learnt how to use spear in two lessons. She looked at him with proud and left the tent. Soon he would join the tribe, but first she had to pass through it...
"Spirits are kind for you, my children... You will catch a lot of food today. Ancesters told me that our sacrafice was heard." - an old creepy shaman all covered with tatoo and some amulets from bones said. He was dressed in large gecko skins and his hand was lying on the scepter made from bones of the deathclaw himself, if the words of shaman were true. He was a great warrior of that tribe long time ago, but hard life, a lot of wounds and mindsickness made him to learn the ways of the spirit. Well, he lost nothing - he got good respected place in tribe's communitiy and safe life until the death... Young girl smiled and looked at him with - "Spirit stuff is good, but if you had no of you impressive knowledge of wasteland or some of your wits or strength didn't left you, you would feed scorpions long time ago..." - she looked at him grining and stoped noticed his words. He made her laugh.
"... and that's why I shall hunt with you today. I will choose new great hunter and shaman. Will of spirits are beyond my will..." - his last words were consumed by surprised cries of all tribe. It was really unexpected, but it was his right. Everybody looked at matron mother and she nodded quitly:
"This is your last hunt, shaman. The next night you will meet in the wasteland." - she said loudly and than added sadly - "This is your choice; you know what happens with helpless or weak here..."
"I do" - answered he briefly...
"You are the one..." - he said quitly. An old beaten body lied on the hard, cold sands of wasteland. Large, terrible wound was seen clearly. Body of dead deathclaw and broken scepter of shaman, covered with his own blood and with bood of his enemy, lay nearby. It was a hard fight, but it was a good hunt. The tribe will survive another season in this harsh nature. Such terrible foe was killed, a lot of food was found. It was a small price for it. The other hunters left an old shaman. They thought that he was dead - nobody could survive such terrible wounds, but he survived and now told smt to a young girl. The same girl, who make the last hit to deathclaw:
"You made... your first step "cough, cough"... young one... This... victory willn't... "cough" be the... last..."cough"..." - his last words left his mouth and nothing was heard, but loud terrible cough. His voice changed greatly, his body began to shake like brach at the strong wind. He began to cry some strange words and curses at the unknown language. Mad rage of death of that strong man was really horrible. Anger and hatred to the death were seen in every his move. He struggled even with his own the death. But suddenly all stoped. Unexpected peace came to him, as it happens after the storm. He became silent and looked only into the sky; sky, covered with heavy, grey clouds. He whispered smt unheard and became quite. A lot of time passed. Young girl sat near him, but nothing changed. He didn't move. His hands were cold, his look was blanky, his last breath disappered in the air long time ago...
END
Rather boring, I agree. I wonder if smb really read that stuff. Poor moderators, what shit you have to read all the time...
First steps
Story
"Hey you, waste of food. Time to get up or the gecko will run away" - an older woman with grey hair said. Her tender, but strong hands made an young girl to wake up:
"It's too early, matron mother. The sun hasn't risen up yet. All other villagers are sleeping. Why should I get up?" - she answered unwillingly, but serious and persistant look of that older woman made her stand up.
"You are a 12 years old, girl." - she said with sad look. - "It's time for you to learn how to live alone." - she looked at her with proud and than added with smile - "You have an important day today - your first hunting alone... You are the strong and smart girl. Several boys have noticed it already..." - she looked at her embarassed face and smiled - "Yes, an old and blind mother know smt... Anyway, it will be one of your most important days in your life, girl. Get up and prepare for the hunt. You will need all your strength today. Go with peace and good luck... my daughter." - she looked at her seriously and left the tent.
Young girl didn't want to leave warm bed and go to the cold wasteland, harsh life of the desert, but she had to do it. She understood that her mother was right. Young girl stood up, took her handmade spear and throw the last look at her former tent. It was used as a childish room for small children. Several of them of different age were sleeping calmly in the other corner of it. Some of elder children were playing with their new toys - knifes and darts at the look of their theacher. One of them was her brother. He was very talented and gifted. He learnt how to use spear in two lessons. She looked at him with proud and left the tent. Soon he would join the tribe, but first she had to pass through it...
"Spirits are kind for you, my children... You will catch a lot of food today. Ancesters told me that our sacrafice was heard." - an old creepy shaman all covered with tatoo and some amulets from bones said. He was dressed in large gecko skins and his hand was lying on the scepter made from bones of the deathclaw himself, if the words of shaman were true. He was a great warrior of that tribe long time ago, but hard life, a lot of wounds and mindsickness made him to learn the ways of the spirit. Well, he lost nothing - he got good respected place in tribe's communitiy and safe life until the death... Young girl smiled and looked at him with - "Spirit stuff is good, but if you had no of you impressive knowledge of wasteland or some of your wits or strength didn't left you, you would feed scorpions long time ago..." - she looked at him grining and stoped noticed his words. He made her laugh.
"... and that's why I shall hunt with you today. I will choose new great hunter and shaman. Will of spirits are beyond my will..." - his last words were consumed by surprised cries of all tribe. It was really unexpected, but it was his right. Everybody looked at matron mother and she nodded quitly:
"This is your last hunt, shaman. The next night you will meet in the wasteland." - she said loudly and than added sadly - "This is your choice; you know what happens with helpless or weak here..."
"I do" - answered he briefly...
"You are the one..." - he said quitly. An old beaten body lied on the hard, cold sands of wasteland. Large, terrible wound was seen clearly. Body of dead deathclaw and broken scepter of shaman, covered with his own blood and with bood of his enemy, lay nearby. It was a hard fight, but it was a good hunt. The tribe will survive another season in this harsh nature. Such terrible foe was killed, a lot of food was found. It was a small price for it. The other hunters left an old shaman. They thought that he was dead - nobody could survive such terrible wounds, but he survived and now told smt to a young girl. The same girl, who make the last hit to deathclaw:
"You made... your first step "cough, cough"... young one... This... victory willn't... "cough" be the... last..."cough"..." - his last words left his mouth and nothing was heard, but loud terrible cough. His voice changed greatly, his body began to shake like brach at the strong wind. He began to cry some strange words and curses at the unknown language. Mad rage of death of that strong man was really horrible. Anger and hatred to the death were seen in every his move. He struggled even with his own the death. But suddenly all stoped. Unexpected peace came to him, as it happens after the storm. He became silent and looked only into the sky; sky, covered with heavy, grey clouds. He whispered smt unheard and became quite. A lot of time passed. Young girl sat near him, but nothing changed. He didn't move. His hands were cold, his look was blanky, his last breath disappered in the air long time ago...
END
Rather boring, I agree. I wonder if smb really read that stuff. Poor moderators, what shit you have to read all the time...
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
22 of june - the day, when WW 2 began for my country... for my homeland. Millions of dead and crippled, millions of destroyed families and lifes - this war changed life of every human on our planet. Yeah, we have special places to mourn there - what is to do on this forum with this stuff? Nothing. We, Russians, wanted to escape WW2, we didn't notice it's coming. And when it began we were helpless to do anything. It concerned Europe(quick fall of France, peace was bought by the sacrifice of it) and America(Pearl Harbour) too. And now it begins to repeat - 11 of september. You didn't want to notice it and it happened. America is only half of the world and you shouldn't forget about it. It's a pity that only your soldiers remember about it... We don't want to notice the coming of new war. What is coming from this I wonder..?
22 of june - The end of the beginning(I am too lasy to post first part of this story, so here you are the last part - Battle for the Moscow)
Story
"... We have no more space to retreat - Moscow is behind of us..." - an old sergeant was telling the speech. A group of new recruits - new support of fresh cannon meat, as smb said, - were standing before him. His loud, hard voice was heard clearly even though the noises of coming war techs - all sorts of tanks and warmachines, airplanes, canons... you name it. There were all sorts of weapons - it was the last battle of that cursed war. Too many killed, too many wounded - enemies at both sides collected all their strengths for the final strike... battle at the Moscow was coming.
"... As the rules of war were posted, you can't use biological, nuclear or neopulse weapon..." - one of the soldiers smiled and said quietly to the to the other one:
"Yeah, he should hear what is happening in other world... It's..."
"What the matter, soldier? You don't want to hear what your homeland is waiting from you?" - loud cry of an old sergeant interrupted his thoughts.
"No, sir" - he answered quickly.
"Right words, soldier, or you will be sent to the front line in one sec. Shut up and return to others..." - he continued his long speech and a young soldier looked at him evily:
"Blasted shiteater, I wish you were there with us..."
"He will be. He is our command officer" - answered smb...
An old man was true veteran of many battles - his old well-used combat armour had many signs of plasma and laser, his old plasma pistol had signs of good use, his body had signs of many wounds and suffers... His words were heard even though soldiers had been transported already to the trunks:
"Moscow is behind... - I think I heard this stuff somewhere" - said the same young soldier, looking at the sergeant, saying the same speech to another group of new recruits...
Night... Nothing can be equal to the night before the first battle - thousands of feelings, thousands of thoughts - you feel fear, you feel courage, this waiting can make you crasy or bring the relaxing peace to your soul. It was turn of young soldier to come to post. Winter night was warm and calm. No noise troubled him - all weapons were ready and aimed at the positions of enemy, all commands were said and than all soldiers were sleeping, getting strengths before the battle. To most of them it was their first battle, but they were too tired to worry about anything... Night sky was covered with gray, dark clouds, light white snow lightly covered the frozen earth...
"Very soon this snow will be changed it's colours..." - he thought grimly. First sunrays were seen at the horizon. Piercing the darkness of the night, the sun appeared at the east.
It was a beatiful sight, but an old sergeant was too old for that stuff. Battle could begin at every minute, and these motherfuckers were sleeping. He threw away the cigaret and came to check the command center. He looked at the sun rising and smiled grimly. The sky was coloured in red, like blood, for him. And soon it will be true. He heard already roars of many airplanes.
A quite hum of fly, which was coming slowly up by the plasma rifle, he had. A young soldier looked at the front of himself and smiled once again. Through hard fire of their army there was seen their enemy. Through the smoking earth and firing machines first enemies appeared. They were too far away for him to shot, so he tried to wait a little. His heart beated like a small fly... like that machinegun, that was firing nearby. He looked at faces of his comrades - in many of them he saw fear or hatred, but in most of them he saw the expression of waiting. They thought about nothing but the coming enemy. All other stuff was behind them - family, country, their "war duty before the homeland"... Nothing can describe that strange feeling of consentration. Young soldier looked at their enemy and felt that he had the same feeling. He was not worry any more - what will happen, it will happen anyway. Than he was only waiting...
Fire of the battle... smoke of firing machines... sounds of fighting soldiers at the land and in the air. Sounds of thousands of guns were heard alomst from every side. Air itself was full of that... cries of wounded and dead. These pictures had unreal, impossible coloures - one of his wounded friends come to the young soldier and said calmly:
"I am dead. Our group is destroyed... by acid bomb..." - his guts were coming after him. Large, smoking wound was seen directly in his chest, where his heart was seen, beating slowly. But after his words it stoped and the soldier fell before his feets... Young soldier wanted to feel smt, but he felt nothing. All his fears and hatred were after him. He saw enough deaths in that day to be noticed by such minor problems. He caught one soldier, runing somewhere and cried at his ear, because the noise was almost impossible:
"Tell, to serg Nox that group A-1a is destroyed..."
"No, I can't. Serg is dead... We all are dead..." - soldier looked at him closely and noticed mad gleam in his eyes, though he looked calm.
"I see, return to your post, soldier" - he said and began to look for the sergeant himself. Actually it was the job of higher officers to do it, but one of them was crying all the night in his tent and the other one was killed in the beginning of the battle - victim of sniper. Their enemy used small satillates as good snipers...
An old man was standing at the brick of madness. All his squad - his best men and women... They all were now shapeless chunks of meat. One plasma grenade is enough to turn alive and beatiful people in smt... He looked at his people and turned away. He saw too many battles to lost his mind. He shot from his pistol in time to kill the coming enemy. His second of weakness has passed and he was ready for a new fight:
"Men, ready the defense..." - he turned to check the defense line and met the runing to him young soldier.
"I hate the traitors. Are you running for your life..." - he quickly knocked him from his foots and pointed his gun at him. In his eyes was seen some unpleasant pleasure. He was ready to fire, but was waiting the answer. Young soldier know that claims of loyality will solve nothin and he said calmly:
"We had little men left. Shot and you will remain alone against all these enemies..."
"What do you mean?" - serg asked and looked at him warningly.
"Look around. We are retreating - now the battle of machines is coming."
An old man looked at battlefield full of dead bodies and crushed machines. Black smoke was seen everywhere. Cries of people were almost unheard any more, consumed by loud nosies of coming large war machines - new serie of robots... - "Nobody will survive that hell, we need to get out of here." - cried an young soldier with fear. He looked at the thousands of bodies and couldn't believe that it happened. Men, women, oldmen and almost children - there were almost every race and nation in that terrible boil of death. And a new monsters appeares - crushing the bodies of fallen and wounded soldiers, new enemies began the battle against each other - robots. First children of that terrible war... and their most favorite ones...
Hum of battle was heard clearly at their back. An old man was coming slowly, following the young boy. Their war was over. They made all they could. He heard terrible explosions and saw dark clouds of fire and black smoke, coming from the battlegrounds. He was wounded hardly and felt himself very tired... he closed his eyes and felt to emptyness of the dream. He wasn't serg Nox any more, but tired old man. He wanted only to sleep. Young man looked at him with confusion and stoped. He couldn't take him - he was too heavy, and enemy was nearby. He sighted heavyly and said quietly:
"War is war, Nox. You will understand me." - he left the body of sleeping old man and continued his way alone. He thought he noticed some moves at his back, but all was calm. He damned the fucking war and continued the way...
The battle was continueing for many hours. Strengths of both enemis was equal, their losses were equal too. Millions of people - main armies - were killed in first days of battle and only robots continued to fight. It was their program and they obeyed. Their commanders were long dead, killed by fire, toxins or radiation. All laws of war were forgotten in the name of victory, but at the end there were nobody left to be victories. Only the last machines after the months after the bombs were hitted and the Earth was consumed by dark night(cloud of dust of radiation, rasied by nuclear explosions) were shut down by last war calculators, which were destroyed soon after it by radiation...
End
Well, here you are. My english is bad and I surely don't know what it was in WW 2(and I hope that I willn't know), but I tried to guess what it will look like. And one more thing - I thank all soldiers, who performed their duty to protect their countries - soviet people, americans, europeians... even germans. It was their common war, it was their common tragedy. Most of them followed their duties... their commands. Fasists, communists, democracy - there were enough dirt to any of them, but we are cursing fasists because they lost the war. They are fucking morons, I know. Their labor camp were the terrible things... but we shouldn't forget that war is over. Most of germans thought that they performed their duty before their homeland and I can not to forgive, but understand them... Anyway, I thank all soldiers, all people who survived that terrible war. Our planet willn't survive any more...
Sorry about that serious stuff, but I am in such mood now. Later I'll post smt more easy
22 of june - The end of the beginning(I am too lasy to post first part of this story, so here you are the last part - Battle for the Moscow)
Story
"... We have no more space to retreat - Moscow is behind of us..." - an old sergeant was telling the speech. A group of new recruits - new support of fresh cannon meat, as smb said, - were standing before him. His loud, hard voice was heard clearly even though the noises of coming war techs - all sorts of tanks and warmachines, airplanes, canons... you name it. There were all sorts of weapons - it was the last battle of that cursed war. Too many killed, too many wounded - enemies at both sides collected all their strengths for the final strike... battle at the Moscow was coming.
"... As the rules of war were posted, you can't use biological, nuclear or neopulse weapon..." - one of the soldiers smiled and said quietly to the to the other one:
"Yeah, he should hear what is happening in other world... It's..."
"What the matter, soldier? You don't want to hear what your homeland is waiting from you?" - loud cry of an old sergeant interrupted his thoughts.
"No, sir" - he answered quickly.
"Right words, soldier, or you will be sent to the front line in one sec. Shut up and return to others..." - he continued his long speech and a young soldier looked at him evily:
"Blasted shiteater, I wish you were there with us..."
"He will be. He is our command officer" - answered smb...
An old man was true veteran of many battles - his old well-used combat armour had many signs of plasma and laser, his old plasma pistol had signs of good use, his body had signs of many wounds and suffers... His words were heard even though soldiers had been transported already to the trunks:
"Moscow is behind... - I think I heard this stuff somewhere" - said the same young soldier, looking at the sergeant, saying the same speech to another group of new recruits...
Night... Nothing can be equal to the night before the first battle - thousands of feelings, thousands of thoughts - you feel fear, you feel courage, this waiting can make you crasy or bring the relaxing peace to your soul. It was turn of young soldier to come to post. Winter night was warm and calm. No noise troubled him - all weapons were ready and aimed at the positions of enemy, all commands were said and than all soldiers were sleeping, getting strengths before the battle. To most of them it was their first battle, but they were too tired to worry about anything... Night sky was covered with gray, dark clouds, light white snow lightly covered the frozen earth...
"Very soon this snow will be changed it's colours..." - he thought grimly. First sunrays were seen at the horizon. Piercing the darkness of the night, the sun appeared at the east.
It was a beatiful sight, but an old sergeant was too old for that stuff. Battle could begin at every minute, and these motherfuckers were sleeping. He threw away the cigaret and came to check the command center. He looked at the sun rising and smiled grimly. The sky was coloured in red, like blood, for him. And soon it will be true. He heard already roars of many airplanes.
A quite hum of fly, which was coming slowly up by the plasma rifle, he had. A young soldier looked at the front of himself and smiled once again. Through hard fire of their army there was seen their enemy. Through the smoking earth and firing machines first enemies appeared. They were too far away for him to shot, so he tried to wait a little. His heart beated like a small fly... like that machinegun, that was firing nearby. He looked at faces of his comrades - in many of them he saw fear or hatred, but in most of them he saw the expression of waiting. They thought about nothing but the coming enemy. All other stuff was behind them - family, country, their "war duty before the homeland"... Nothing can describe that strange feeling of consentration. Young soldier looked at their enemy and felt that he had the same feeling. He was not worry any more - what will happen, it will happen anyway. Than he was only waiting...
Fire of the battle... smoke of firing machines... sounds of fighting soldiers at the land and in the air. Sounds of thousands of guns were heard alomst from every side. Air itself was full of that... cries of wounded and dead. These pictures had unreal, impossible coloures - one of his wounded friends come to the young soldier and said calmly:
"I am dead. Our group is destroyed... by acid bomb..." - his guts were coming after him. Large, smoking wound was seen directly in his chest, where his heart was seen, beating slowly. But after his words it stoped and the soldier fell before his feets... Young soldier wanted to feel smt, but he felt nothing. All his fears and hatred were after him. He saw enough deaths in that day to be noticed by such minor problems. He caught one soldier, runing somewhere and cried at his ear, because the noise was almost impossible:
"Tell, to serg Nox that group A-1a is destroyed..."
"No, I can't. Serg is dead... We all are dead..." - soldier looked at him closely and noticed mad gleam in his eyes, though he looked calm.
"I see, return to your post, soldier" - he said and began to look for the sergeant himself. Actually it was the job of higher officers to do it, but one of them was crying all the night in his tent and the other one was killed in the beginning of the battle - victim of sniper. Their enemy used small satillates as good snipers...
An old man was standing at the brick of madness. All his squad - his best men and women... They all were now shapeless chunks of meat. One plasma grenade is enough to turn alive and beatiful people in smt... He looked at his people and turned away. He saw too many battles to lost his mind. He shot from his pistol in time to kill the coming enemy. His second of weakness has passed and he was ready for a new fight:
"Men, ready the defense..." - he turned to check the defense line and met the runing to him young soldier.
"I hate the traitors. Are you running for your life..." - he quickly knocked him from his foots and pointed his gun at him. In his eyes was seen some unpleasant pleasure. He was ready to fire, but was waiting the answer. Young soldier know that claims of loyality will solve nothin and he said calmly:
"We had little men left. Shot and you will remain alone against all these enemies..."
"What do you mean?" - serg asked and looked at him warningly.
"Look around. We are retreating - now the battle of machines is coming."
An old man looked at battlefield full of dead bodies and crushed machines. Black smoke was seen everywhere. Cries of people were almost unheard any more, consumed by loud nosies of coming large war machines - new serie of robots... - "Nobody will survive that hell, we need to get out of here." - cried an young soldier with fear. He looked at the thousands of bodies and couldn't believe that it happened. Men, women, oldmen and almost children - there were almost every race and nation in that terrible boil of death. And a new monsters appeares - crushing the bodies of fallen and wounded soldiers, new enemies began the battle against each other - robots. First children of that terrible war... and their most favorite ones...
Hum of battle was heard clearly at their back. An old man was coming slowly, following the young boy. Their war was over. They made all they could. He heard terrible explosions and saw dark clouds of fire and black smoke, coming from the battlegrounds. He was wounded hardly and felt himself very tired... he closed his eyes and felt to emptyness of the dream. He wasn't serg Nox any more, but tired old man. He wanted only to sleep. Young man looked at him with confusion and stoped. He couldn't take him - he was too heavy, and enemy was nearby. He sighted heavyly and said quietly:
"War is war, Nox. You will understand me." - he left the body of sleeping old man and continued his way alone. He thought he noticed some moves at his back, but all was calm. He damned the fucking war and continued the way...
The battle was continueing for many hours. Strengths of both enemis was equal, their losses were equal too. Millions of people - main armies - were killed in first days of battle and only robots continued to fight. It was their program and they obeyed. Their commanders were long dead, killed by fire, toxins or radiation. All laws of war were forgotten in the name of victory, but at the end there were nobody left to be victories. Only the last machines after the months after the bombs were hitted and the Earth was consumed by dark night(cloud of dust of radiation, rasied by nuclear explosions) were shut down by last war calculators, which were destroyed soon after it by radiation...
End
Well, here you are. My english is bad and I surely don't know what it was in WW 2(and I hope that I willn't know), but I tried to guess what it will look like. And one more thing - I thank all soldiers, who performed their duty to protect their countries - soviet people, americans, europeians... even germans. It was their common war, it was their common tragedy. Most of them followed their duties... their commands. Fasists, communists, democracy - there were enough dirt to any of them, but we are cursing fasists because they lost the war. They are fucking morons, I know. Their labor camp were the terrible things... but we shouldn't forget that war is over. Most of germans thought that they performed their duty before their homeland and I can not to forgive, but understand them... Anyway, I thank all soldiers, all people who survived that terrible war. Our planet willn't survive any more...
Sorry about that serious stuff, but I am in such mood now. Later I'll post smt more easy
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
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Lianora Beró
- Regular
- Posts: 63
- Joined: Sun Jun 16, 2002 5:48 pm
- Location: Finland
- Contact:
Very good stories
Well often those serious matters makes the story good. You have a skill to write good stories and i admire it 
Keep it up lad!
Im also trying to write a serious story but im still developing it and changes will be made soon
Keep it up lad!
Im also trying to write a serious story but im still developing it and changes will be made soon
Knight Commander Lianora Beró: BOS Special Night Ops.
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
-
Lianora Beró
- Regular
- Posts: 63
- Joined: Sun Jun 16, 2002 5:48 pm
- Location: Finland
- Contact:
hmm..maybe
But still think about the world of Fallout...It´s a fucked up world i tell you So that´s why the stories shoud be more serious..but There shoud me humor, good, evil,weak and strong characters and so on..And if you are a good writer with a good imagination you can add something of your own there and no one will know the difference. Well I agree that some people will get annoyed with "too" serious stuff, but that´s their problem. We shoud not write stories trying please everyone...That´s lame. We make our stories and if someone doesn´t like it..Well that´s their problem again 8)
So that´s why the stories shoud be more serious..but There shoud me humor, good, evil,weak and strong characters and so on..And if you are a good writer with a good imagination you can add something of your own there and no one will know the difference. Well I agree that some people will get annoyed with "too" serious stuff, but that´s their problem. We shoud not write stories trying please everyone...That´s lame. We make our stories and if someone doesn´t like it..Well that´s their problem again 8)Knight Commander Lianora Beró: BOS Special Night Ops.
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
You damn right. 8) You know, you should try round robin. Fallout world is calling for you and you mustn't be alone in that voyage. Humour is important thing in this world - one of the most important, but not the main... well, I am sure you know what I mean. Try round robin, I say again. It surely will help you to create smt awesome... I even ready to help you if you'll ask. I am in creative mood in these days...
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
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Lianora Beró
- Regular
- Posts: 63
- Joined: Sun Jun 16, 2002 5:48 pm
- Location: Finland
- Contact:
You got that right!
Humor is one of the most important things in fallout stories. Well Bob the plant in my story is..erm..quite strange character...You will see
But..As i was saying. You can write serious stories but when you add some really good WELL placed humor, the story will automaticly come better and easier to read. But as a writer you shoud imagine something of your own to add to your stories...BUT when you do that..Try to make your own additions fit in to the Fallout world.
Of course your story has to be good also. Characters, places, plots and so on. These all has to fit...Well that´s my oppinion but still.
What or who is round robin?
But..As i was saying. You can write serious stories but when you add some really good WELL placed humor, the story will automaticly come better and easier to read. But as a writer you shoud imagine something of your own to add to your stories...BUT when you do that..Try to make your own additions fit in to the Fallout world.
Of course your story has to be good also. Characters, places, plots and so on. These all has to fit...Well that´s my oppinion but still.
What or who is round robin?
Knight Commander Lianora Beró: BOS Special Night Ops.
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
===================
War, war never changes, untill she changed it.
===================
"That takes a fourteen shot clip
You expecting an army?"
"No...just a division"
That's funny - I log in just recently to read that post... Anyway, you are 100% right. I have problems with humour, but real FO story must have it. Plot, storyline, characters doesn't matter - it will suit fine if it has enough good wellplaced FO humour.
Round robin - this is story, which is writen by several authors. Each of them edit one chapter. To write one large story is hard enough for one person(believe me), but several of them can to do it. And it will be a good training for you.
Round robin - this is story, which is writen by several authors. Each of them edit one chapter. To write one large story is hard enough for one person(believe me), but several of them can to do it. And it will be a good training for you.
World of FO is coming... too fast for my liking
