Originally posted by Lagger:

I DARE THEE TO FUCK OFF!

Originally posted by The Extreme Potato:

Which Halo OST?

Halo 2/3.

Specifically One Final Effort and Behold A Pale Horse was on repeat for about half an hour.

e621 is a furry porn site. Pics, mostly.

Aside from the obvious:

Music. I can play a couple of instruments, but my main focus is Saxophone because it's just too fucking good to leave be. Swing is in my blood yo.

I watch a shitload of movies/series, standart nerd passtime.

I read quite a bit, even if I've been slacking on that front lately, reading more online stuff than actual books.

Guns. I like shooting guns. I like shooting guns fast at moving targets.

Exploring dead places. Mines, abandoned buildings, old battlefields, things like that. Trekking between them is fun too, but I don't like doing it with family and it's not fun by myself, and nobody I'd want along actually ever comes along.

Tabletop games, anything between Dungeons and Dragons and MTG all the way to more standart stuff like Agricola BSG The Game, Secret Hitler or Epic Spell Wars. I own a few physical copies and printout versions. Standart nerd passtime. Also a fucking great thing to do.

I actually swim to keep fit. As in "able to walk effortlessly" fit.

...And that's about it, really.

Originally posted by k r y z t a l:

I didn't even bother to read and I know it's good.

Originally posted by Prusak #FineAndDandy:

Originally posted by k r y z t a l:

I didn't even bother to read and I know it's good.

Originally posted by Jens-o(est):

Originally posted by k r y z t a l:

I didn't even bother to read and I know it's good.

Fucking read it scrubs.

Eleven hundred words of me having an idea. And too much time on my hands. Rate and review, I guess?

Also, Halo OST and this were major contributors:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6N_XXK6cns

---

Seven of them stood in the dropship's bay. Massive suits of metal, towering over any man, helmets concealing whether those inside were still human at all. Their visors were darkened, armor covered in camo patterns, each of them holding a rifle larger than what any soldier had the ability to carry. They didn't seem to move, but even when they did, no sound gave them away. There was a seemingly impossible grace to them - every motion seemned perfectly fluid and precise even under three tons of armor plating, exoskeletons and internal wiring. Every one of them could take on an armored division and come out on top. Seven of them could alone conquer a world, given enough time.

To all the marines aboard, they were gods of war, incarnations of vengence. Avatars of destruction. They couldn't be killed in combat, they were invulnerable. Born to win wars, carry forth banners, lead dozens into a glorious fight. They were perfect supersoldiers. Their mere presence meant the mission would be a success. How could it not?

None of the suits saw it that way. When the buzz that announced fifteen minutes out echoed and all the marines tensed, they gathered in the middle of the room, forming a circle. Marines immediately ceased their pre-drop banter, instead intently watching the gargantuan figures. Their visors obscured whether they were watching one another, or just balnkly staring past. For almost a minute they stood motionless, as if waiting for their cue, then, into the silence, one spoke. The voice that came from behind the mask was female, but deep and distorted. It barely resembled a human anymore.

"We've seen a lot. We will see more. We are the only ones carrying this burden."

The woman who spoke this turned her head left, briefly meeting the gaze of another of her squad, before that man continued their ritual. It was as if they've done it a million times before, something like a reminder, to grant them courage in the war they were about to fight.

"We have lost many and much. We have no home, we have no future. Our only purpose is war."

The man spoke in a growl, his words more of a factual statement than anything else. There was no body language that would betray his detachment from the situation, and no tremble in his voice to give way to sorrow or regret. It was a soldier's voice, clear and determined. Every word had a purpose. Another turn of the helmet, almost as if a nod, and the word passed on to the giant left of him.

"Our fate has been sealed before we could so much as speak against it. We are dead men walking."

The words were carried with a slight british accent, almost unnoticable, but making their bearer infinitely more human to everyone in the room. Where each of them, male or female, should've been uniform, a silent guardian who needn't speak, there was a discrepancy. A hint of humanity to a pure, godly creature.

"We are not gods of war, nor the examplar of humanity. We are killing machines. We serve our purpose well."

Without needing a nod, another female voice took its turn, a perfectly balanced voice of a singer, with no sharp edges or unnecessary strenght to it. It sounded harmonic, almost divine. It was the voice of an angel of death. A voice that should have been full of hope and cheer, but instead was simply empty.

"A hundred of us to do what billions could not. Our numbers only dwindle. It matters not, for we didn't live to begin with.

The words were uttered with a hint of disgust. A male voice full of pure sound loudly stated them, ignoring a the stares that it earned for its owner. There was a subtone of pure rage to it, something broken, but unrelenting. Something that could turn into a cleansing fire within seconds.

"They wanted us to be that. Empty husks that followed orders, nothing more. They failed."

A scholar's voice echoed, meek compared to the rest, out of place. It was in complete contrast with the huge mass of armor and muscle that was its owner, yet somehow incredibly appropriate. It was the voice of a man who led with reason and knowledge, not the voice of a cold-blooded warrior.

"They instead brought us to life. From the worst of intentions arose the most unlikely of lives. Our purpose has changed."

A final voice spoke. It was a male one, hard but somewhat fatherly, reminding every marine in the room of their drill sargeant. It created a feeling of familiarity no other of them could, reinforced by the massive posture of the speaker. After the final sentence, a feeling of relief washed over the supersoldiers and marines that accompanied them alike.

Then all of them, fast as a lightning, placed their right hand over the spot where their heart would be, if it wasn't buried under untold amounts of armor, or if it still was their only one.

"We will fall. Our legacy will not."

Just as fast as they made it, the gesture was gone. As one, the armored troopers turned to the bay door and took a hold of their weapons. They set themselves in a line, checked and ready, mentally prepared for whatever was lying behind that door.

"WHO ARE YOU?!?" bellowed the fatherly voice of one of the soldiers.

"Vaguard 83. Fury!" came the first response. The voice was still full of clearly defined anger, but it seemed more focused now.

"Vanguard 11. Song." followed up the musical voice of a singer, suddenly full of determination.

"Vanguard 23. Reason." said the weak voice, somehow gaining strenght over the course of but a few seconds.

"Vanguard 3. Unbound!" yelled the man with a british accent, a reminder of the group's humanity.

"Vanguard 75. Spirit!" came the distorted and unnatural voice of a woman who was supposed to be longed dead, but whose sheer determination shrugged it off.

"Vanguard 66. Shield!" bellowed the deep growl of a soldier, as stern and heavy as ever.

A short pause followed, as the only one who hasn't stated his name yet, eyed the dropship's innards. All of the marines were staring in wide-eyed awe, unable to truly comprehend what they just witnessed. His squad radiated certainty, of themselves, of their future, of the battle's outcome. There was only one more thing that had to be said.

"Vanguard 32. Sarge." finally whispered the last of them, a simple statement of identity. It made all the difference.

Originally posted by k r y z t a l:

Originally posted by Lagger:

What is a joke?

Something that's supposed to be funny when in reality it's not.

Yeah that about checks out.

Originally posted by Sir Illic:

Originally posted by Lagger:

FUCKING END YOURSELF!

I have a thing I'm finishing rn. Maybe in like a month. Not before I'm through with Kryz's earlier request anyways.

You know I was joking right?

What is a joke?

Originally posted by Sir Illic:

Originally posted by Kaiayos:

That's fine, I still love you anyway. ^-^

LAGGER I GOT A REQUEST FOR YOU!

FUCKING END YOURSELF!

I have a thing I'm finishing rn. Maybe in like a month. Not before I'm through with Kryz's earlier request anyways.

Originally posted by ///AUTOMATA:

Originally posted by k r y z t a l:

I'm atheist, obviously.


What has this to do with the internet? Lmao.

I'm just going to assume that you're not an atheist in the first place :smug:

Well then.

I wonder how many people assume that I'm christian now.