Hammer and Steel
- Thread starter Tycho
- Start date
strijder20
Wallowing in irony
Ouch 
Verarde
Pondering Wearing A Hat
I was like, "He lives!" Then I was like, "Oh wait, he doesn't." Then I thought, "That sucks." Then I thought, "I should work on my own story."
CocoIsKing28
Slightly less stupid
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2011
- Messages
- 3,240
Another chopper vaporized in the air, smashed open by a flak shell that ripped through it's fuselage from the front to the back. Blades spun away from the burning wreck as bodies began showering out of the carcass onto the snowline of the ridge below, among the agents, the Verbenschwa, the snipers, all firing at the Grey Dawn and Black Marchers as they tried to pull back into a deeper position amongst the hills that they had been caught between as the vicious fighting engulfed them. Bodies cloaked in heavy black body armor and ones in snow white jackets covered the valley floor with crimson specks against the pure white, as the blizzard picked up. Another chopper, losing control of it's engines, was whipped into a side of the ridge to explode into a fireball as the equipment delivery courier was shattered.
"Where the utter hell is our air support?" Cambridge had to shout over the sound of dozens of choppers flying through the air right now, still thick as hundreds of agents and Verbenschwa swept down from the skies. The chatter of machine guns and self propelled anti aircraft artillery batteries thundered through the valley. "We were promised air support before we left, damn it!"
Yulai ejected a cartridge, his face wrapped in a thick scarf but blanched and frightened. "The hell if I know, mate, communication lines are worth less than a bag of horsehockye in this damn blizzard."
"Where the hell is Delta then, he's got most of our damn radio equipment and the command link for our squad to the Tactical Network? Don't tell me you gave him a sniper rifle or something of that sort."
Yulai leaned on his stomach and sprayed a Black Marcher position with gunfire, two bodies falling out of sight, struck by bullets or not no one could say. "Yeah, I did, and he's gone crazy. Perhaps that wasn't a great idea on my part considering that it was like giving a shotgun to a manic psychopath."
An artillery shell exploded a bit farther down on the ridgeline, showering everything with a geyser of snow ejected up into the windy tempest raging above. Cambridge cursed and rolled away from Yulai, grabbing a spare Dai-Ichii rifle and jamming another cartridge into it. He attempted to stand and dash to a position of cover established from makeshift entrenched positions, but a bullet cracking over his head quickly put a stop to that and forced him to crawl forward to where Nova and Theta laid side by side, picking off enemies as they stuck their heads up above rocks and outcroppings against the rocky, snowswept cliff on the other side of the valley. It seemed that the Black Marchers and the Grey Dawn had temporarily called a ceasefire regarding their differences and had chosen that shooting at government agents would be a more rewarding exercise.
Perfect, Cambridge thought dryly. Nova had a bloody wound above one eye where a bullet had swiped him, turning the olive skin around it a crimson mask, while Theta was wrapped in a balaclava and kept his expression seemingly the same as one target dropped, than a second. If they were cold snipers obsessed with their job, Delta had to be the equivalent of a damned glacier, albeit with the psychotic tendencies of a mass murderer. The thrum of an anti material rifle echoing throughout the howling wind no doubt belonged to Delta, enjoying himself immensely with his smooth, emotionless face on. Cambridge didn't have the heart to pick off the stragglers on the valley below, the ones missing arms or legs where a bullet had exploded and torn the limb off, though Delta had no problem with that and perhaps relished it more often than not.
"Epsilon, you there?" Cambridge spoke clearly into the comm device, watching as Bloody November squadron cut their way down the slope in a bloody swathe, gunshots rattling off left and right as they dodged into positions one by one. They were in their element here, much like Delta and Oxford who was undoubtedly smashing his way through defensive lines to take out a anti aircraft artillery battery before more choppers arrived on the scene, as well as jets... possibly. With the weather conditions what they were, Cambridge wouldn't be surprised but more infuriated to hear that they would call off their promised air support that they had heard about. More than likely a few bombs and missiles would drop onto their positions even if they dropped the brightest flares known to man onto the target positions, as well as lazing them as well.
"Yeah Cambridge, I'm here."
"You having interference problems on the comm lines and on the tactical network as well? Trying to find out if our air support is working or not in this damned blizzard."
"It's not working for me, but the Verbenschwa guys are getting feeds loud and clear, but they are using a different line and bandwidth than what we are using, so I dunno what the hell the problem is. I'll try to find out immediately, and get back to you on that."
"Alright friend, sounds good to me, I'll check back in soo-"
Cambridge was cut off as a vicious burst of static screamed and pulsed in his ears from the communication piece. He ripped it out and flung it into the snowline, cursing as he rubbed his ear as what felt like blood trickled out of it. All along the ridgeline, agents were doing the same thing, looking around confused while the Verbenschwa troops pressed their hands to their ears, staring at the agents around them.
Picking it gently up off of the snow, as if it might explode in the palm of his hand at any moment, Cambridge reinserted it into his ear to hear a rush of white noise and snow in the background, like you might hear from a television set. A crackling series of beeps followed, punctuated by gunshots from the valley floor. A calm man's voice came on the line and spoke softly.
"This is Broadcast Station Sierra Delta reporting, orders for Verbenschwa forces given, execute your orders as they pertain to you."
Cambridge was still trying to figure out what that meant when the first gunshots on the ridge rung out again. He turned slightly to see a Verbenschwa sniper with a sidearm out, pointing down at an agent screaming for mercy as the black coated special agent squeezed the trigger several more times. Others along the line whipped out their own sidearms, aiming for agents as well, and squeezing of rounds as fast as they could, as other agents opened fire on them. Theta and Nova rolled to cover each other, laying down a barrage of bullets on a smattering of Verbenschwa agents clustered together.
A small click was heard by Cambridge from behind. He turned slightly, into the barrel of the gun that Jorge held, smiling all the while as his scarf fluttered lazily in the wind.
"I should have offed you long ago, you pathetic runt. Your friend cracked my damned skull when he was beating me to a pulp, but now I will have recompense in your death and in his. Any last words, before I spread your brains across the ground?"
Cambridge spat at him.
Jorge grinned wider. Another click, as the hammer of the pistol was drawn back.
"Hope you enjoy hell, bastard."
Cambridge uppercut as viciously as possible, driving his fist into Jorge's stomach. The other man acted as if he didn't feel it, but loosened his grip on the pistol as Cambridge grabbed him by the throat and drove his knee into Jorge's abdomen. In response to that, Jorge wrapped a massive hand around Cambridge's throat and began to squeeze as hard as he could, picking Cambridge bodily off of the ground as he laughed. "You think you can hurt me, you pathetic waste of flesh?" The fingers were digging into Cambridge's throat like knives. He choked and rasped for air as they constricted more and more. "You think you can stop what has been set in motion? You are powerless before me and all the others! Your pathetic order of agents will be turned to ash by the end of today, from Washington to the northern mountains, to Rome itself, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"
Cambridge raised one hand and pointed at Rorge as a thin, whistling sound emanated from his throat.
"Pointing isn't going to save you."
Cambridge thrust his finger forward and pointed again.
Jorge never saw the large, metal pole that smashed into the side of his neck. His grip slackened immediately, sending him tumbling over the edge of the ridge while clutching at his own throat as Cambridge scrabbled to try and stay up on the rocks. A strong hand reached down and grabbed his forearm, yanking and pulling him up with a strong force.
"Ready to go, friend?" Epsilon said through the black scarf.
"Where the utter hell is our air support?" Cambridge had to shout over the sound of dozens of choppers flying through the air right now, still thick as hundreds of agents and Verbenschwa swept down from the skies. The chatter of machine guns and self propelled anti aircraft artillery batteries thundered through the valley. "We were promised air support before we left, damn it!"
Yulai ejected a cartridge, his face wrapped in a thick scarf but blanched and frightened. "The hell if I know, mate, communication lines are worth less than a bag of horsehockye in this damn blizzard."
"Where the hell is Delta then, he's got most of our damn radio equipment and the command link for our squad to the Tactical Network? Don't tell me you gave him a sniper rifle or something of that sort."
Yulai leaned on his stomach and sprayed a Black Marcher position with gunfire, two bodies falling out of sight, struck by bullets or not no one could say. "Yeah, I did, and he's gone crazy. Perhaps that wasn't a great idea on my part considering that it was like giving a shotgun to a manic psychopath."
An artillery shell exploded a bit farther down on the ridgeline, showering everything with a geyser of snow ejected up into the windy tempest raging above. Cambridge cursed and rolled away from Yulai, grabbing a spare Dai-Ichii rifle and jamming another cartridge into it. He attempted to stand and dash to a position of cover established from makeshift entrenched positions, but a bullet cracking over his head quickly put a stop to that and forced him to crawl forward to where Nova and Theta laid side by side, picking off enemies as they stuck their heads up above rocks and outcroppings against the rocky, snowswept cliff on the other side of the valley. It seemed that the Black Marchers and the Grey Dawn had temporarily called a ceasefire regarding their differences and had chosen that shooting at government agents would be a more rewarding exercise.
Perfect, Cambridge thought dryly. Nova had a bloody wound above one eye where a bullet had swiped him, turning the olive skin around it a crimson mask, while Theta was wrapped in a balaclava and kept his expression seemingly the same as one target dropped, than a second. If they were cold snipers obsessed with their job, Delta had to be the equivalent of a damned glacier, albeit with the psychotic tendencies of a mass murderer. The thrum of an anti material rifle echoing throughout the howling wind no doubt belonged to Delta, enjoying himself immensely with his smooth, emotionless face on. Cambridge didn't have the heart to pick off the stragglers on the valley below, the ones missing arms or legs where a bullet had exploded and torn the limb off, though Delta had no problem with that and perhaps relished it more often than not.
"Epsilon, you there?" Cambridge spoke clearly into the comm device, watching as Bloody November squadron cut their way down the slope in a bloody swathe, gunshots rattling off left and right as they dodged into positions one by one. They were in their element here, much like Delta and Oxford who was undoubtedly smashing his way through defensive lines to take out a anti aircraft artillery battery before more choppers arrived on the scene, as well as jets... possibly. With the weather conditions what they were, Cambridge wouldn't be surprised but more infuriated to hear that they would call off their promised air support that they had heard about. More than likely a few bombs and missiles would drop onto their positions even if they dropped the brightest flares known to man onto the target positions, as well as lazing them as well.
"Yeah Cambridge, I'm here."
"You having interference problems on the comm lines and on the tactical network as well? Trying to find out if our air support is working or not in this damned blizzard."
"It's not working for me, but the Verbenschwa guys are getting feeds loud and clear, but they are using a different line and bandwidth than what we are using, so I dunno what the hell the problem is. I'll try to find out immediately, and get back to you on that."
"Alright friend, sounds good to me, I'll check back in soo-"
Cambridge was cut off as a vicious burst of static screamed and pulsed in his ears from the communication piece. He ripped it out and flung it into the snowline, cursing as he rubbed his ear as what felt like blood trickled out of it. All along the ridgeline, agents were doing the same thing, looking around confused while the Verbenschwa troops pressed their hands to their ears, staring at the agents around them.
Picking it gently up off of the snow, as if it might explode in the palm of his hand at any moment, Cambridge reinserted it into his ear to hear a rush of white noise and snow in the background, like you might hear from a television set. A crackling series of beeps followed, punctuated by gunshots from the valley floor. A calm man's voice came on the line and spoke softly.
"This is Broadcast Station Sierra Delta reporting, orders for Verbenschwa forces given, execute your orders as they pertain to you."
Cambridge was still trying to figure out what that meant when the first gunshots on the ridge rung out again. He turned slightly to see a Verbenschwa sniper with a sidearm out, pointing down at an agent screaming for mercy as the black coated special agent squeezed the trigger several more times. Others along the line whipped out their own sidearms, aiming for agents as well, and squeezing of rounds as fast as they could, as other agents opened fire on them. Theta and Nova rolled to cover each other, laying down a barrage of bullets on a smattering of Verbenschwa agents clustered together.
A small click was heard by Cambridge from behind. He turned slightly, into the barrel of the gun that Jorge held, smiling all the while as his scarf fluttered lazily in the wind.
"I should have offed you long ago, you pathetic runt. Your friend cracked my damned skull when he was beating me to a pulp, but now I will have recompense in your death and in his. Any last words, before I spread your brains across the ground?"
Cambridge spat at him.
Jorge grinned wider. Another click, as the hammer of the pistol was drawn back.
"Hope you enjoy hell, bastard."
Cambridge uppercut as viciously as possible, driving his fist into Jorge's stomach. The other man acted as if he didn't feel it, but loosened his grip on the pistol as Cambridge grabbed him by the throat and drove his knee into Jorge's abdomen. In response to that, Jorge wrapped a massive hand around Cambridge's throat and began to squeeze as hard as he could, picking Cambridge bodily off of the ground as he laughed. "You think you can hurt me, you pathetic waste of flesh?" The fingers were digging into Cambridge's throat like knives. He choked and rasped for air as they constricted more and more. "You think you can stop what has been set in motion? You are powerless before me and all the others! Your pathetic order of agents will be turned to ash by the end of today, from Washington to the northern mountains, to Rome itself, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"
Cambridge raised one hand and pointed at Rorge as a thin, whistling sound emanated from his throat.
"Pointing isn't going to save you."
Cambridge thrust his finger forward and pointed again.
Jorge never saw the large, metal pole that smashed into the side of his neck. His grip slackened immediately, sending him tumbling over the edge of the ridge while clutching at his own throat as Cambridge scrabbled to try and stay up on the rocks. A strong hand reached down and grabbed his forearm, yanking and pulling him up with a strong force.
"Ready to go, friend?" Epsilon said through the black scarf.
Tomorrow's Dawn
Heroes Never Die
Been waiting for this for a long time. Very pleasing to be able to read this again.
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2011
- Messages
- 3,240
Thanks friend, I've finally been able to balance my schoolwork and stuff in order to put out some more content when I am able to, so hopefully I can get more chapters out while I transfer my save on this story to another computer hopefully.
SamSniped
DJ Goodboye
Great update, as always! 
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2011
- Messages
- 3,240
Dark and quiet were the sentinels as they moved forth. The celebration being held on the ground far below, after the anniversary of the tragedy that had gripped Washington, were in full swing. Civilians bustled around, enjoying drinks and food, while being entertained by State provided assets. Carnivals and rides and everything was in motion, and people looked around in the dazzling spectrum of lights and sounds that assailed them. Not a single one of them would have noticed the Wulf Western stealth choppers as they carried the dark sentinels forth to their destination.
Orders in hand, they loaded their weapons and prepared their sidearms. Bullets, clips, rounds, shells, knives and machete like blades clasped to their sides and in bandoliers around their bodies, they waited quietly in the holds of the choppers as they made their way quietly to the destination, barely a ghostly whisper upon a northern wind. The lights and massive array of music and sound dwindled away in the distance, as they rolled down the central hill that held the capital upon it's back, hoisting it above the surrounding terrain. The dips and rises that the city faced as it moved away from the central structure that was Parliament grow softer as they traveled down until they hovered over a certain section of the city. Already, their comrades in arms in State Security and the other Verbenschwa groups would be executing their ends of the missions, namely liquidating the ghettoes and such that had become such a nuisance and problem in the wake of the Zuschlag Und Stahl Liberation Front's movements against the state.
Far below, the agents that had been corralled into the district where milling about in houses in stuff. Their leadership, at gunpoint, had told them over the radios to assemble at the district due to a special mission. What was left was a fraction of the agent corps, those that had not been sent abroad to fulfill some pointless mission, or to be taken care of by Verbenschwa soldiers out in the field and their corpses unceremoniously dumped into shallow graves. Wolves would find those, and not a single person would know or deign to care at the disappearance of them.
Slowly, the ropes were lowered, and the Verbenschwa began to rappel down.
"They're here."
Harvard whispered over the communication lines, his voice crackling slightly. "We are unlikely to survive this, men, but we have to give them a good fight at the very least, and kill as many of these bastards as possible. I'm not going to die in vain, and I doubt the others of you will do so as well. Godspeed with you all, and good luck to all of you. We have fought well, and long and hard, and now we are betrayed and set upon at all sides by our former friends, brothers, and comrades in arms in combat. They hope to kill us all and smash us down, writing our name into ash and leaving us to die. I do not intend to do so, and let's not at all intend to do that. Pay them back in blood for every inch they seek to claim. Make them suffer as they come over the lines and try to kill us all. God speed to all of you, and good luck on this night, our final night, and the end of an era of peace and hope."
He clicked the radio off, readied the package, and loaded his rifle. He sat in the chair in the center of the house quietly. Waiting.
Things obviously began to go awry when the first shots rang out, and rappelling Verbenschwa soldiers going down the lines started jerking and going limp suddenly, tumbling hundreds of feet down to smack into the concrete with sickening crunches. The soldiers, to their credit, kept their cool and calm and merely went down the ropes faster, shooting back as agents began to shoot from houses and apartment buildings in large amounts, semi automatic rifle and automatic rifle fire sounding out. The sound of said shots from both sides were covered shortly by the dazzling two hour array of fireworks that started up at that exact point, sending massive sunbursts of multicolored hues into the heavens to sparkle gently as they rained down. On the ground however, blood was already starting to run thick as the assault upon the area began.
The wind was blowing gently, whispering names between the houses as the Verbenschwa crouched behind makeshift cover as they made their ways through the streets and side alleyways. Granted, the area that they were attacking was surrounded on all sides by the force that they had assembled, but two thousand agents crammed into an area that made up two square miles and comprised of mostly vertical structures that gave sniper vantage points to many of them as they were defending themselves was not optimal, even for the urban combat specialized Verbenschwa. They fired back in turn, high powered rifles tearing chunks out of agent cover, and flesh and bone that happened to get in the way of the bullets. Screams and shouts were already ringing out through the night, as the deafening barrage of fireworks gashed open the night sky with garish colors. Communication lines on both sides were already filled with the screams of the dying and the wounded, calls for help and assistance coming in on both ends.
The first ten minutes was absolute hell upon the Verbenschwa. The agents were entrenched, had the element of surprise, and outnumbered the initial attackers by a large margin, and were wiping the floor with them quite easily. Bullets would crack out of a window that had been said to have been cleared and catch a man in the throat, silencing him forever; at other times, alleyways were booby trapped and the resulting explosion of a half a dozen mines in a tightly enclosed area with a few men tightly packed together smeared their remains in a red paste between what was left of the walls. Medics were initially not on the ground as well, while the agents were receiving excellent medical care and getting onto their feet faster, while anticipating the Verbenschwa's every single move. Somebody had their godforsaken handbook on what they were doing and was having them slaughtered en masse for their troubles.
Slowly though, the tide began to change. Once the element of surprise wore off, the agents were at a disadvantage. They had heavy weapons too, anti material rifles and high powered weaponry made by Dai-Ichii and Wulf Western, but had less of it than the Verbenschwa did. Less body armor meant that when a bullet ripped into your chest, instead of having a chance on a coin flip of surviving, the survival rate for the agents was drastically lower. Additionally, surface to surface handheld missile launchers and rocket propelled grenades (the one thing that the agents had next to none of), were being employed by the Verbenschwa to great effect to say the least. The high perches of snipers were not safe unless dedicated fire was coming out of the nests, and even then, the Verbenschwa were more than happy to lay down plenty of covering fire for their rocket flinging friends as they waited patiently for them to get beads on the enemy.
There would be no stopping the Verbenschwa.
And there would be no mercy.
Orders in hand, they loaded their weapons and prepared their sidearms. Bullets, clips, rounds, shells, knives and machete like blades clasped to their sides and in bandoliers around their bodies, they waited quietly in the holds of the choppers as they made their way quietly to the destination, barely a ghostly whisper upon a northern wind. The lights and massive array of music and sound dwindled away in the distance, as they rolled down the central hill that held the capital upon it's back, hoisting it above the surrounding terrain. The dips and rises that the city faced as it moved away from the central structure that was Parliament grow softer as they traveled down until they hovered over a certain section of the city. Already, their comrades in arms in State Security and the other Verbenschwa groups would be executing their ends of the missions, namely liquidating the ghettoes and such that had become such a nuisance and problem in the wake of the Zuschlag Und Stahl Liberation Front's movements against the state.
Far below, the agents that had been corralled into the district where milling about in houses in stuff. Their leadership, at gunpoint, had told them over the radios to assemble at the district due to a special mission. What was left was a fraction of the agent corps, those that had not been sent abroad to fulfill some pointless mission, or to be taken care of by Verbenschwa soldiers out in the field and their corpses unceremoniously dumped into shallow graves. Wolves would find those, and not a single person would know or deign to care at the disappearance of them.
Slowly, the ropes were lowered, and the Verbenschwa began to rappel down.
"They're here."
Harvard whispered over the communication lines, his voice crackling slightly. "We are unlikely to survive this, men, but we have to give them a good fight at the very least, and kill as many of these bastards as possible. I'm not going to die in vain, and I doubt the others of you will do so as well. Godspeed with you all, and good luck to all of you. We have fought well, and long and hard, and now we are betrayed and set upon at all sides by our former friends, brothers, and comrades in arms in combat. They hope to kill us all and smash us down, writing our name into ash and leaving us to die. I do not intend to do so, and let's not at all intend to do that. Pay them back in blood for every inch they seek to claim. Make them suffer as they come over the lines and try to kill us all. God speed to all of you, and good luck on this night, our final night, and the end of an era of peace and hope."
He clicked the radio off, readied the package, and loaded his rifle. He sat in the chair in the center of the house quietly. Waiting.
Things obviously began to go awry when the first shots rang out, and rappelling Verbenschwa soldiers going down the lines started jerking and going limp suddenly, tumbling hundreds of feet down to smack into the concrete with sickening crunches. The soldiers, to their credit, kept their cool and calm and merely went down the ropes faster, shooting back as agents began to shoot from houses and apartment buildings in large amounts, semi automatic rifle and automatic rifle fire sounding out. The sound of said shots from both sides were covered shortly by the dazzling two hour array of fireworks that started up at that exact point, sending massive sunbursts of multicolored hues into the heavens to sparkle gently as they rained down. On the ground however, blood was already starting to run thick as the assault upon the area began.
The wind was blowing gently, whispering names between the houses as the Verbenschwa crouched behind makeshift cover as they made their ways through the streets and side alleyways. Granted, the area that they were attacking was surrounded on all sides by the force that they had assembled, but two thousand agents crammed into an area that made up two square miles and comprised of mostly vertical structures that gave sniper vantage points to many of them as they were defending themselves was not optimal, even for the urban combat specialized Verbenschwa. They fired back in turn, high powered rifles tearing chunks out of agent cover, and flesh and bone that happened to get in the way of the bullets. Screams and shouts were already ringing out through the night, as the deafening barrage of fireworks gashed open the night sky with garish colors. Communication lines on both sides were already filled with the screams of the dying and the wounded, calls for help and assistance coming in on both ends.
The first ten minutes was absolute hell upon the Verbenschwa. The agents were entrenched, had the element of surprise, and outnumbered the initial attackers by a large margin, and were wiping the floor with them quite easily. Bullets would crack out of a window that had been said to have been cleared and catch a man in the throat, silencing him forever; at other times, alleyways were booby trapped and the resulting explosion of a half a dozen mines in a tightly enclosed area with a few men tightly packed together smeared their remains in a red paste between what was left of the walls. Medics were initially not on the ground as well, while the agents were receiving excellent medical care and getting onto their feet faster, while anticipating the Verbenschwa's every single move. Somebody had their godforsaken handbook on what they were doing and was having them slaughtered en masse for their troubles.
Slowly though, the tide began to change. Once the element of surprise wore off, the agents were at a disadvantage. They had heavy weapons too, anti material rifles and high powered weaponry made by Dai-Ichii and Wulf Western, but had less of it than the Verbenschwa did. Less body armor meant that when a bullet ripped into your chest, instead of having a chance on a coin flip of surviving, the survival rate for the agents was drastically lower. Additionally, surface to surface handheld missile launchers and rocket propelled grenades (the one thing that the agents had next to none of), were being employed by the Verbenschwa to great effect to say the least. The high perches of snipers were not safe unless dedicated fire was coming out of the nests, and even then, the Verbenschwa were more than happy to lay down plenty of covering fire for their rocket flinging friends as they waited patiently for them to get beads on the enemy.
There would be no stopping the Verbenschwa.
And there would be no mercy.
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2011
- Messages
- 3,240
Alright, yes, I did have a delay mostly due to computer issues where the game is stored on, which means that until I can scrape up money for a new computer, I'm going to have a significant dearth of screenshots unfortunately, which is not what I was hoping for. I'm going to ration the remaining ones in the meanwhile so I don't run out of them anytime soon.
Hope you enjoy the story though, friends.
Hope you enjoy the story though, friends.
SamSniped
DJ Goodboye
Screenshots? We don't need no stinking screenshots! 
SamSniped
DJ Goodboye
Is this dead?
