Devs ban you for hacking :D I push you off in Monte Carlo

GoldRock conspiracy theories...

Thanks!

- Dawn - ____________________________________________________________ It is a time before the day's rise - a time where all is still. The little farmer is in his house sleeping. The farm animals are in their pens, sleeping. The river flowing by gurgles in its sleep. And then the rooster crows. A crack of brilliant light illuminates the horizon. The trees in the distance are tinged with pink, as if blood were splattered among the clouds. The sun rises rapidly as the farmer reluctantly gets up to go to work, facing the endless doldrums of day again. The farm animals wake up in their pens. The river rushes forward with renewed energy. The forest is buzzing with all the creatures. As the farmer does his daily chores, the sun creeps over the treetops. It will reach its apex and fall back to Earth again in an endless cycle, but the sun still chooses to follow it's path anyways. The farmer will go back to sleep, and so will the farm animals, the river, and the forest. The brilliant red hue will illuminate the canvas of the sky once more, before the onset of night. The sun rises again. This time, the sounds to great the coming of day are the mechanical sounds of bulldozers. Construction workers and planners are hard at work to build a complex. Hearts filled with the desire to feed their families, they work on. The farmer and his animals have since left in a truck for a new home. Dawn paints the sky once more with the birth of a new day. Trees tumble to the ground. The crashing sound can be heard for miles around. The earth shakes and birds scatter, to find a new home, if they can. Years from now, there will be none left for these poor birds. Nonetheless, the bulldozers and cranes work mercilessly. The river slowly fills with dirt, dumped from the bulldozers. Its rushing of energy becomes a trickle of despair. And then just like that, it is gone. The farmhouse is demolished. All that remains is a foundation, from which a hospital will be built. The farmland, which the farmer tilled and took such well care of, is run over by machinery too. As the sun rises above the treetops, the workmen take a break and eat breakfast. They talk about their wives, and their houses, and the football game upcoming. The sun will rise to its zenith, and plummet towards the welcoming land, to begin the cycle all over again. The workmen will continue working on the hospital. Soon they will go on strike. And then they will get a pay raise, before pruning the forest tree by tree, all over again. The poor animals will leave their homes. They will not know what happened. They assume it is an earthquake. And they flee from the land they were born in. They will flee their home to start a new life. And Dawn will guide them. Dawn always has. Dawn chases night away again. This time, the sounds to greet her are the sirens of an ambulance. It is making its way up a winding road to the hospital, where the patient will hopefully be cured of his ailment. There is no forest anymore. The river is completely gone. There is no trace of the humble decorations that once embellished this landscape. Instead, there is a road where the river was. The hospital is on top of the farmhouse. And the forest is replaced by a hospital wing. The rest of the trees are sold off solely for lumber. Dawn splashes her skirt on the sky once more. The rosy heavens blush in response. Patients walk out of the hospital, towards the parking lot, where they will face life again. A casket containing a little boy is carried out of the hospital. He will be given a funeral, and be buried where the first tree was cut down in the forest. The sun rises to embrace the heavens, but like always, will drop below the horizon to cede the sky to the stars, before wresting the sky from their grip yet again. The doctors are payed well. They will work continuously to save lives in this far off hospital. Dawn will signal the start of a new day for these people. A new day, with new lives, all counting on this small scrap of land where a river, forest, and farmhouse once stood. And then the sun emerges again. The hospital is now a crumbled ruins, holding members of the military. The decrepit building is the last hope for its country. The soldiers camp here, longing for their families, but forced to stay vigilant. The engines of jeeps break the silence. Inside, is water and ammunition. The soldiers slake their thirst and return to their posts. One recruit glances at a photo of his wife and children. A tear falls to the ground. Dawn throws her arms wide, throwing forth color and hope into the night. The soldiers look up. One mutters a prayer to God. And then Dawn cries. Torrents of tears flow forth and wash the color out of the Earth, cleansing it. The ground is thick with mud and runoff. The soldiers huddle in the ruined building. The recruit stares at the only photo he has of his family. A sad, faraway look permeates his face. The sun shyly ducks behind a cloud. He will still rise and fall, like everything else in this world, but only today it will be in secret. Mortars and tanks constantly bombard the ruined building throughout the day. In time, they will level it into rubble. The recruit will not be able to return to his family. Nonetheless, all is fair in love and war. And then our closest star rises again. The landscape is now a virtual desert. There is no sound to greet him. Nothing. The site has become a desolate landscape, with mud and stone strewn over the place. But one good thing has become of this. Dawn cried. She gave the earth a clean state. Now it can start anew. Dawn smiles and the sky lights up. The hues dance across the sky, red, orange, pink, in a slow tango. The path of the heavens and the earth are forever intertwined. As life comes to the sky, so too does the earth. A sprout pokes its new head out of the soil. In time, it will grow to be a mighty oak tree. It will seed the earth, and a forest will grow again. Right now, it does not know this. All it is concerned with is growing. Till the end of time will the sun rise and fall. The forest will return, and maybe the animals. Some creatures, however, have lost their homes, and will never return. There will be a stream where a river once ran. It will grow to be a mighty rapids. The river will return. As for the farmer, not much can be said about him. He may never return. But that is too far in the future to tell. Right now, the sun will dip below the horizon, before rising to whatever sounds fate decides to let it hear. If there is one thing Dawn has learned from the millennia she has existed, it's that history always repeats itself. ____________________________________________________________

Heeyyyyyyyyy Night-Sisters :wub: lol jk :P All jokes aside, thumbs up

Hmm... interesting story. One thing I would suggest would be to have a huge plot twist later on. Not one of those cheesy betrayals because we've all read them and they're old now :ph34r: . Also, I understand the conflict is against the Legionnaires, but it does not seem real. The General and the Coyote could be having a cup of coffee discussing stocks for all I care. I suggest making the readers fear the enemy. So that when a mission is sent into enemy territory, they shiver and their heart starts beating. One way to do this is to make the readers care for the good guys. If the main character is a slimy urchin, he could get slaughtered for all I care and the story would still end in a yawn. I feel like I don't care for the General or Coyote very much, mostly because they don't have the qualities that make people human. Love. Fear. Hate. Passion. The General just seems like a robot designed to help the Order. If he has something he cares about, someone, even basic emotion, then the story would be ten times better. Nonetheless, great job! ;)

I was planning on making more stories with "similar" ideas. Not sure if that counts :ph34r: But thanks anyways :P

Thanks!

Kit _____________________________________________________________ My name is Kit. When I was little, life was good. My mommy told me how I was going to be a great repair kit one day, and how will I make her so proud. We would sit around in the pile with the other repair kits, telling stories and laughing. Little sis would ask me what the jokes meant, and I would explain them to her. She would then look at me with an expression on her face, that read 'you seriously find that funny?' And I would laugh at that. I believed that nothing bad would ever happen to us. How wrong I was. One day, I ventured to ask mommy why I didn't have a Papa, but the other repair kits did. She looked at me for a second, and then glanced at the sky with a distinct look on her face. I knew that look. She was trying to be brave for her son. "Someday, you will understand, Kit." And so I let it drop. The day the first claw came started off well. I was sitting around with the other repair kits, telling jokes like always. "What do you get when you cross an Isida with a double damage?" I asked, looking around at the other repair kits. I stroked Little Sis's cute pink bow-tie, like always. And then there was a horrible grinding sound. It came down from the sky, like a giant silver angel of death. All the repair kits looked up in wonder. A large metal tube came down from what looked like the clouds. It descended closer and closer to the ground, and then opened up like one of the claw machines that pick up teddy bears and what not. But this was huge. It completely blocked out the sky. "What is that?" asked one of the repair kits. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. What WAS that? As if on cue, the claw closed around the screaming repair kit. As he struggled to free himself, and dozens of other repair kits jumped on to help, the claw started ascending to the sky, towards who knows what. That snapped me out of my shock. I started running toward my house, towards Mommy, pulling Little Sis behind me and covering her eyes so she couldn't see. But it was futile, as Little Sis could still hear the now faint screams. "What is it?" demanded Little Sis as I pulled her along. "It can't be Halloween, that was a week ago!" I just pulled her faster. When we reached our house, I knew it was too late. The claw had disappeared, replaced by the now fake-looking cloud. I ran inside anyways, where I found a very tired looking Mommy gazing out the window. I locked the door and shook Mommy hard. She just turned around and gestured me to the corner. "What is it?" asked Little Sis, her face now tear-stained. "There will be a time when you have to be brave for her sake." was all that Mommy whispered to me. And then she collapsed on the bed. All I could do was comfort Little Sis and wonder why whoever controlled the claw would do such a thing to our peaceful village. And then I, too, fell asleep. When I wake up, I first notice the giant hole in the roof. I shake Little Sis awake. Then I notice the absence of Mommy, the still locked door, and the unbroken window. As I piece together the information, I remember Mommy's last words: "There will be a time when you have to be brave for her sake", and so I say nothing. I wonder why Mommy never screamed for help when the claw came through the roof, and then I realize that doing so would wake up Little Sis. When Little Sis asks me what happened, I tell her Mommy can fly now, and that she is watching over us. At least that is somewhat true. She calms down, and I go out to assess the damage. No, the roof will not block out rain now, but that can be thatched over with straw. So I go out to the village supply and set to work. "Your mother was the bravest repair kit I knew." says a voice behind me. I turn around, but the stranger is already leaving. What was that all about? I quickly take in his deep, jagged scar on his back, and go back to work. By nightfall, I've made a pretty good substitute roof, and collapse on the bed without another word. Little Sis just stares at me like she's seen a ghost, and mouths something I'm too tired to hear. And that is when the dreams hit me. Mommy and a male repair kit are facing something. I am hiding behind Mommy. Suddenly, Mommy rushes forward shouting "No!" The male shouts after her telling her to wait. Mommy doesn't listen. The male rushes forward as Mommy jumps on a giant claw, fighting tooth and nail. And then I realize that there are hundreds, hundreds of repair kits trapped inside. The male rushes forward and jumps on the claw, helping Mommy. Together, they wrest open the claw and hundreds of repair kits tumble out. One of them has a scar on his back from being pressed against the claw. The claw comes down again, but Mommy kicks it, while the male fiddles with something. The claw violently jerks, and Mommy is thrown off. I scream, but she is alright. The male is hanging onto the edge of the claw. He says something to Mommy, and then both he and the claw fall to Earth, and he gets crushed by thousands of tons of metal. My dream changes again. I am now looking at Mommy. She is crying, a parachute attached to her. She tries to move, but is unable to do so. She cries some more, looking past me. I turn around and see a tank rumbling towards her. Any second now, Mommy will be crushed. "Mommy!" I shout. She looks at me, with tears in her eyes. "Be... brave... my beautiful son." and then the tank rolls over her, crushing her into pieces. I wake up sweating, and consider falling back asleep, before I hear the screaming. I run outside. The claw has struck again. All my neighbor's houses are burning, and dozens more repair kits are being hoisted into the sky. I consider helping, but I don't have the guts Mommy had. I feel bad seeing the repair kit with the scar among the dozens, and I feel worse when he looks at me with a sad look on his face. But there is nothing I can do. The claw is too high up now for me to jump. Days pass, the claw comes again and again. Our little village dwindles down to eight repair kits, including me and Little SIs. I make friends with two other repair kits, Carl, and Deven. Carl is strong, and Deven is the kindest repair kit I know. Together, they will be able to protect Little Sis when I am gone. There are four other repair kits. Alexandro is a rough and tumble repair kit that was able to rescue the twins Dee and Doo from the claw a few days ago. Dee is still afraid to go outside because of the incident. The final repair kit is an old kit aptly named Elder. He probably knows the history of the village, but still refuses to tell us. Elder calls us all to a meeting. The only people that show up are me, Alexandro, Carl, Deven, and Doo. Dee is still too scared, and I don't want Little Sis to have to worry about giant claws. As we settle into our places, Elder coughs and begins. "Well, let's get straight to business. It's a matter of time before we all get killed. Any ideas on how to survive?" No one replies. Elder sighs. "Well, there was a prophecy long ago." he begins. He looks around to see if anyone wants to offer anything. Carl is looking at the horizon. Deven is drawing shapes in the ground with a stick. Doo is looking around at all of us, scared. I'm staring off into space. "Continue" mutters Alexandro. Elder clears his throat. "Well, the prophecy said that a little boy, or his sister, will save the village." Elder offers, looking straight at me. I gulp. And then the claw comes down again. With a horrible clanking sound, it rushes towards the Earth, faster than I had imagined. Everyone naturally scatters. Everyone, except Elder. "What are you doing?" demands Alexandro. He runs back and drags Elder away from the claw, but Elder resists. "The claw has to take someone. I've decided its got to be me." replies Elder, looking calm. And then I rush forward, knocking both of them out of the way. I look at Carl and Deven, and they nod. They rush off to find Little Sis, to protect her. I take a deep breath. I jump and grab onto the claw. Alexandro jumps and grabs me, but I knock him off. He tries again, but the claw is ascending fast, and he misses. I look down at our peaceful village for the last time. The repair kits are specks now, but I find Little Sis, and try to be brave for her. Needless to say, I fail. And then the claw goes into the clouds. Hands grab me as I struggle and bite and cry. I fail. They bind me tightly and attach a parachute. And then they swing a bat at me and my world goes black. Mommy and the other male are looking at me. "What shall we name him?" asks the male. "Strix? Henry? Marc?" "No." says Mommy. "We'll name him Kit." And the male laughs, and says "Kit it is." Then he looks at me and says "Hey Kit, you're gonna do great things someday." And then they both laugh. My dream changes. I'm older, and I'm looking down at a tiny repair kit. I'm clutching my birthday present, a bow-tie. I look at Mommy and the other male. They both look back at me. "Well, what shall we name him?" asks Mommy. I take one long look at my bow-tie. It was my birthday, but it was also my sister's. I slowly pin the bow-tie on her, and say "Little Sis." I wake up falling. At first, I'm worried, but then I realize I'm falling slowly. I look up, and see a parachute. I try to find my village in the landscape below, but I can't. Instead, I see a bunch of tanks. The drop would be fun, but I am panicking. I realize how foolish I was. By having Carl and Deven protect Little Sis, it would mean that they would sacrifice their lives for her. So when they die, Little Sis will be all alone in the village. And when the claw comes for the last time, there will be no one left to protect her. And then I land with a thud on the ground. I survey my surroundings. There are a lot of decrepit buildings, and railgun and ricochet shots bounce off everywhere. I try to move, but i am unable to. I feel like a sitting duck. I look up. There is a tank heading full speed for me. As I am about to be crushed to pieces, I focus on the only happy thought I can muster. I'm with Mommy now. _____________________________________________________________ Don't let Kit's sacrifice be in vain. Save the Repair Kits to protect Little Sis. ____________________________________________________________ Hunter's Story Found a really good song that goes well with this story: Never Be Alone - TheFatRat

- Hunter - _____________________________________________________________________________ Hunter stood in the Tanki garage, polished, and ready for battle. He examined his treads, speeding around the garage with pride while the admin that designed him looked on. Hunter did flip over the other tanks admin was designing, but there was one problem. "Admin, when am I going to see battle?" "When a tanker claims you as their tank." And so Hunter waited patiently. Days passed. Admin designed a green paint to go along with Hunter, and a turret, Smoky. Hunter loved his new paint, but one look at the ugly boxed shaped turret made him want to get it off his hull as soon as possible. One day, a tanker named Stevie joined the game, and so Hunter was claimed. Stevie was a young boy, and new to Tanki. As he tried out Hunter for the first time, he was neither able to turn the turret, nor maneuver well, but Hunter was patient. As Stevie got his first kill, Hunter was filled with pride, although he still wanted the smoky off of his pristine hull. Before he knew it, Stevie had captured his first flag, ranked up to Private, and bought a new turret, Twins. Although Twins was an improvement over Smoky, Hunter still did not like the look. But he was mighty proud of Stevie. Stevie rose through the ranks rapidly, getting kill after kill after kill. When Stevie was not playing, Hunter would ride through the Tanki garage, showing off Stevie's newly earned rank. Admin would look at Hunter and just smile. Soon, Stevie caught his first gold box. Hunter zoomed through the garage, making sure to yell in the faces of the half finished tanks admin was designing. The admin would just smile. Stevie eventually bought Thunder. Hunter loved the new look to bits, and spent an extra long session boasting in the Tanki garage, careful to avoid the Generalissimos and Legends. And then Stevie was WO1. Hunter and Stevie battled in the new map, Madness, and brought their team back from a defeat. As they were battling, Stevie attempted to shoot an enemy Railgun right before he jumped off the edge onto the enemy flag. It was an impossible shot, and Stevie missed. Hunter was suddenly very dizzy as he flipped again and again before landing on one of the Tanki signs. Stevie was the only person that ever accomplished such a stunt. That was when Stevie began parkour. Soon, Hunter found himself on top of buildings, signposts, and doing barrel rolls. He always showed off his screenshots with glee in the Tanki garage. Admin would just smile at Hunter, designing a new tank, as always. With parkour, came clans, and soon Stevie was in a clan called Rekt'em. He excelled during practices, and soon was able to make impossible shots and maneuvers. Hunter felt very bold as he drove around sandbox, with Stevie taking out the experienced Hornet-Railguns. One day, Hunter awoke in the garage, finding metal plates all over him. He drove over to admin, and inquired as to what had happened. Admin had barely finished telling Hunter that he was now an M1 hull, before Hunter drove around the entire garage, boasting yet again. Then came the Halloween events. Stevie and Hunter excelled on the new map, and Hunter was happy. He loved all the new paints and turrets being fitted on his hull. The new Thunder M1 looked amazing on top of Hunter, and so he was content. Christmas came, and the events were fun. In addition, Stevie became excited about the new "Tanki X". "We're gonna play together in the new maps. You're gonna look so cool!" said an excited Stevie. And Hunter believed him. Stevie soon became interested in watching the V-LOGs, and reading the Tanki Newspaper. Hunter waited patiently in the garage, and when Stevie came back to battle, they ruled Massacre DMs. Polygon CP's were fun too, as Stevie would just shoot at the center, and the clump of tanks had no way to dodge the splash. And then Stevie was an Amateur writer. He would spend hours writing up stories, and post them. Hunter would head over to the forums to read Stevie's writing, and like always, he was mighty proud. There was just one problem: Stevie spent less and less time battling. Hunter would wait patiently in the garage, and make the most of the few battles Stevie played. Then there was the day Stevie stopped battling altogether. At first, Hunter was not worried. He headed over to the forums to see if Stevie had written something new. And indeed he had. There was a new topic under Amateur Writing. "Goodbye Tanki" was it's title. Oil pumped through Hunter's system. He rushed into the garage, and drove over to admin. Why on Earth would Stevie do something like this to me? Hunter demanded admin to get Stevie to come back. Admin just looked at Hunter, with a sad expression on his face. "They're transferring me to Tanki X tomorrow. I'm sorry. I'm sure patience will pay off one day." And that was that. The next day, admin was nowhere to be found in the garage. Indeed, his prototypes were gone too. There was a tread mark on the ground where Hunter had jumped over the first prototype, before he was claimed. And he braked there, and cried. The next day, Hunter decided to be patient. He was humbled to the point where the tanks he had previously boasted to came over to comfort him. Hunter just fired his Thunder and shooed them away. So he just waited patiently in garage, all by himself. One day, a tanker logged in, and Hunter was so happy, he zoomed out of the garage. But it was not Stevie. It was a young boy with freckles and glasses. Stevie had neither of those. At the moment, Hunter was just happy he had something to do. And so he battled. The new tanker was good too, and Hunter hated to admit it, but he was better than Stevie at times. However, the new tanker let flow a torrent of insults in the chat, and so the new tanker was hit by a torrent of insults back. Hunter winced whenever an insult began with "your hull is so bad that". The new tanker was a heavy drugger. Hunter was the subject of envy in the garage, due to the mountains of repair kits, but rather than be proud, Hunter felt ashamed. He wanted Stevie back. One day, the new tanker stopped logging on too. But that was because the new tanker was banned. Hunter remembered the malicious words in the chat quite viciously. He shuddered. Hunter waited in the garage for years. His paint started rusting. His turret squeaked on it's hinges. He no longer jumped over tanks with his old energy. He was soon another tank in the endless garage. The next few years passed in a blur. Hunter was controlled by a young girl with pigtails, a gamer with about five electronic devices hooked up to him, four little boys who each favored a different baseball team, a patient in a hospital, and a little boy with a hoarse voice. And they all left the game one way or another. One day, admin came back. He looked quite different, with graying hair, and glasses. Hunter zoomed over to him and waited patiently for admin to say something. "Bad news, they're closing down Tanki's servers for good to make room for Tanki X. I'm supposed to let you know." "What about Stevie?" asked Hunter "I've been very patient." "I don't know." And that was that. Admin left, never to come back again. Lots of the tanks in the garage disappeared. Very few people were left on the servers. The only battles you could find were a rare Polygon CP and Noise CTF. The only person who would log in to use Hunter was a wealthy man who grew up playing Tanki. Hunter caught his last gold box in a Polygon CTF, leaping from above. And then the day of the server close came. Even the wealthy man, who was a Tanki fan his whole life, switched over to Tanki X. Only a handful of tanks were left in the garage. The only person who would log on to use Hunter was an old man, barely able to control the tank. The seconds ticked down, and a deep sense of depression filled Hunter. I've been very patient, and Stevie still hasn't come back. With just five minutes before the servers shut down for good, the old man joined a Madness CTF. Hunter winced as the old man kept flopping on the ground, and having to press delete. Hunter watched as the old man missed shot after shot after shot with Thunder. With just seconds remaining, the old man attempted to shoot the enemy shaft, right after respawning. Hunter looked on with consternation as the old man apparently did not notice he had a finger on the up arrow key. Sure enough, Hunter drove off the edge right as 'Servers Will Shut Down in 5...' appeared on top of the screen. The recoil from the shot knocked Hunter spinning into the abyss below. And that's when Hunter landed on top of the Tanki sign. He was in shock. Only one person He knew could do such a feat. "Stevie?!" Right before the servers shut down for good, Hunter thought he heard a barely audible "Yes." _____________________________________________________________________________ Every Hunter has a Stevie. Be a good Stevie, not a bad one.

I know it's a joke. My comment was a joke too.

Let me ask you a question: WHY IN THE WORLD DOES MR. BELL PLAY TANKI? :huh:

last!!! XD

Okay, so um... Yah I couldn't come up with a good title. 717 words, including date and time in bold. DISCLAIMER: The Delta Force is a real US Special Ops team, along with the Navy Seals and the Green Berets. They are mainly used to rescue hostages and as counterterrorism, so the mission mentioned below is realistic. The SCSS is made up, although such technologies do exist. All characters are fake and so is the plot, and so any resemblance to an existing text is entirely coincidental. No offense to anyone was intended during the authoring of this text. Link to actual info about the Delta Force is https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delta_Force. Delta 7 Chapter 1: Missing Comrade 9:30 PM, Sunday, March 29 James pulled his night vision goggles over his face. A chilly wind blew through the reeds, stinging his face. He fumbled around his belt for his walkie talkie. His gloves closed on something hard. Unclipping it, he held it to his mouth. “This is Delta 4, closing in on target. Do you copy?” 2 years in the Delta Force and these raids never get old. Every movement James made was built up from years of training into instincts. He focused his goggles through the marsh. “Roger that Delta 4. This is Delta 3, communications systems are go. Do you copy?” James peered through the marshes into the barren wasteland beyond. In the distance, specks dotted the horizon. He focused his goggles on the terrorist campsite. As the specks grew, he saw a lone guard leaning against one of the tents. “Yes i copy. Delta 1, do you have a view of the target?” “Roger that.” “Copy. Delta 2, is the SCSS up?” The Supersonic Communications Strafing System would allow them to knock out any terrorist communications that might otherwise make them end up with military support. “Roger.” “Delta 5, are you go?” “Roger.” James raised his Colt M4 to shoulder height. “Delta 6, are you go?” “Roger.” “Delta 7, are you go?” There was no response. James waited. The only sounds were the crickets and the wind through the reeds. He waited a little more, but still no sound. “Delta 7, do you copy?” James waited. He repeated it again, although not lacking a note of panic in his voice. “Delta 7, are you out? Do you need support?” Again James waited. There was total silence. ******* 2 days earlier James crawled out of his tent. The midday sun beat down on him like a batter does a baseball... well not really. The ground was hot enough to fry an egg, although he did not bring any eggs for this mission. There was a tense mood in the air, dilated by the onset of a storm. Although they had done several missions together before, the team knew that any mission could be their last. Each was as equally fatal as the previous. Just weeks before they had seen a comrade blown to bits by a mortar shell. And a few days before that another comrade, Weitzman, was stabbed to death by a kamikaze attacker. James had watched the knife go through his body multiple times before he shot the attacker in the head. He had had to endure watching Weitzman fall screaming to his death. James slowly dragged himself to the dining pavilion. By the time he dragged himself into the welcoming shade, his face was brick red and he was soaking in sweat. He picked himself up and dropped into a chair near the end of the table. “Heat wave’s coming over 120 degrees, eh captain?” A cheery voice to his left spoke up. “Delta 7! How many times do I have to tell you to call me either ‘Delta 4’ or by my last name ‘Valguard’?” James roared. “Sorry, captain. I’ll remember it in the future, captain.” James could not suppress a smile. Although he was annoying at times, and although he was the least experienced on the team, Jeff Lionel gave the team an enormous confidence boost with his silly antics and jokes. Possibly even more than me James surmised. “So what’s the status today?” James inquired. “Big storm coming in. We may have to abort mission.” A young fellow named Johnson replied, looking up from his bacon. “Martinez and Lionel, prepare for abort procedure.” “Roger that.” They replied, although Jeff added a “captain”. James rolled his eyes. “Care for some bacon?” Jeff persisted, holding out a platter to James. ******* 9:32 PM, Sunday, March 29 There was an eerie chorus of crickets accompanied by the wind, but there was no other sound. It took a moment for the truth to sink in. James buried his face in his hands. “Delta 4, are you okay? Do you copy?” James let his sobs fill in for the absence of his comrade. Although members of the Delta Force were not supposed to let their emotions get in the way of their mission, James could not stop his goggles from fogging up.

are we allowed to submit multiple times if we don't like our first submission?

Done! :D

Only one problem. The turrets hulls and paints BY THEMSELVES. are pretty good looking but when you put them together they look like Remaine after getting blown up by TNT 17 times pretty awful. You know, they just don't go well together. And I personally don't like Graffiti. It looks like someone took a spray can and went beserk (well they probably did), and the fact that the colors look overly light (not bright those are 2 different things) doesn't help.

i always beat heavy hulls with my trusty isida as long as i don't run out of ammo cuz im much more nimble than that behemoth of immobility.

ok then, you must have an interesting family... -_-

The Ultimate Guide to Forester paint on maps that no longer exist.

I would love to see a totally random article that randomly pops up in the newspaper. About JOHN CENA something off topic.

LOL I trolled someone once by camping out on a spawn point and dropping mines. I am pleased to report that he was not happy with me at all. But seriously, xD

red explosives jamaican bobsled team

22986 This is really pointless

yes how did u know? #paint