Self-destruction initiated.

WHO U R

I am the one who my posts link you to.

Or, if you are lame, I am Syneptus

HOLY CARP!!!

I don't get it...I'm here, and Oatesy and Whiskey have this place on life support for 2 weeks...I post like 3 times, go to california where I can't get on, come back 4 days later, and there's 2 new pages?

I don't understand you guys at all!!!

-Twilight Storm | Welcomes Synetus' alternate personality to the...wait a sec...last time somone here had an alternate personality we lost like 4 members...THE CHATROOM CANNOT TAKE THIS I SAY!!!   THERE ARE ONLY 5 OF US LEFT!!!  (And while posting back and forth to myself would be interesting, I'd rather see posts from u guys.  )

Oatesy:  Pick one of the first two stories, and I'll post the first chapter here.  (My chapters average 3-7 pages in wordpad, just a heads up.)

It used to (Maybe I'm thinking of a different one) but yeah, now I think about it, it doesn't...

This is gonna bug me now...

>.<

nvm, lolz, I forgot I bought OfficeSuite on my old laptop and got the 2 confused.  At any rate, 3-7 pages is accurate.

-Twilight Storm

Yes.

Do not mock our Stardock overlords. They have great power.

I will now note that Chapter 11 of A Trader's Gambit has been posted up.

Go on, read the whole thing, I've even got a delicious link for you: DELICIOUS LINK IS DELICIOUS

You know you want to click it. Go on, it's good for you.

A few things to know before you read this:

1)  This is not one of the stories I listed, it's one I started a while back and the most likely for me to continue with in the near future.

2)  At the moment, I have this, and half a page of chapter 2 of the prologue (Of 3 I think), so it may be a while before anything new comes up.

3)  I am easily distracted, so if not writing more for a while will anger you, just a heads up.

4)  Sorry about the format, but long ago the mods informed me that copy/pasting word documents into notepad before posting them here dramatically cuts back on the possibility that the thread will crash due to incompatibility issues.

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Falkyn Rageheart and the Order of the Black Rose:

Prologue-  Dawn of a Hunter

1-

He awoke with a shudder, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.  Something was definitely wrong this time.
He had had the same feeling for the past three nights, waking at around the same time, and finding that he could not fall back asleep.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he sat up, his hands wiping at his forehead with the edge of his blankets.
“Falkyn?”  His sister's voice whispered to him in the darkness.  “What is it Falkyn?  Is it your dream again?”
“Yeah.”  He said.  It wasn't until he spoke that he realized he was short of breath.
“Do you remember it this time?”
“No.  I don't even think It's really a dream anymore.  Maybe It's something else?”
“Like what?”
“I don't know, Annabelle.  But I've got a bad feeling this time.  Worse than before.”
He heard her sit up and waited as she struck a match, and lit the small lantern.  She looked concerned as she brushed the brown hair from her eyes.  “What are you going to do?”
“What is there to do?  I don't even know what It's about.”
“Should we tell mom and dad?”  She asked.
“No.  Why bother?  They've never listened before.  The flood, the fire.  Even that storm last summer.  It's like they don't want our dreams to be true, so they just say they aren't and think it's true.”
“Right.”  She said.  “You have it so bad.  At least you don't have to see it happen.”
He cringed at the hurt in her voice as he remembered her own curse.  He got bad feelings before things happened, but Anna saw them.  She had seen the the damage the flood was going to cause, and with his help, had saved their horses by opening the stalls the night before.  To her immense relief, she hadn't seen the fire before it happened.  Her own theory was that she wasn't able to see events that involved her fate directly.  In fact, she believed she was supposed to die that night.  She would have, if he hadn't found her when he did.
Of course, he didn't arrive as soon as he had hoped, and it cost her a great deal of pain from the burns covering the left side of her body, not to mention her sight. 
“I saw it.”  She said.  “I know what is going to happen.  A few minutes before you awoke.  I just needed to make sure.  Falkyn, something horrible is about to happen here tonight.”
“I know.  The feeling is stronger this time.”  He scratched nervously at the side of his neck.  “What did you see, exactly?”
“It wasn't clear.  I saw fire, and an eye.  A great golden eye staring at me.  And there was a scream.”
“Is that all?  Anna, your visions are usually a lot clearer than that.  Are you sure?”
“Yes.  I wish I could forget even a little of it, but I can't.  Falkyn...I think...this vision involves me somehow.  I'm sure of it.  That's why I saw so little.”  Her voice was cold with fear.  In that moment, he knew she believed that she was going to die.
“I'm going to go look around outside.”  He said as he rolled from the mat he slept on.
“I couldn't bare to lose you, Falkyn.”  She whispered.  “Be careful.”
“We will.”  He said, strapping his work belt around his waist.  He really only wanted his brush knife, but the sheath was part of the belt, so it was all or nothing unless he wanted to carry it the whole time.  Besides, he might need something else.
“We?”
“Get your cloak, Anna.  I'm not leaving you alone like this.”
She started to protest, but instead reached for the trunk at the end of the bed.  While she felt for what she needed, he pulled his own cloak from a hook above his mat and pulled it over his shoulders, then grabbed the lamp Anna had lit, lowering the cover so the light shined only where the small opening was pointed.  When he looked back at her, she was standing by the bed, holding the staff she kept above her bed to feel ahead of her.
He opened the door and she walked through.  Even after seeing it for two years, he still found it strange to see his blind sister walk with such confidence, though he knew it was because she knew every inch of their small home by heart.  She would need some help when they got outside.
He walked through the kitchen and to the front door, where Anna was waiting with her free hand held out to him.  He took it and put the edge of his cloak in her palm.
“I may need my free hand.”  He whispered.  “Hold tight.  If I tell you to, then drop straight to the ground and don't move.  I don't know what's happening, but it seems worse that the others.”
“Okay, brother.  I trust you.”
He opened the door and held the lantern outside so he could see what he was stepping into.  When he was confident there was no immediate danger, they stepped outside, Anna pausing to close the door.
They walked slowly so Anna could take the time she needed to feel her foot touch the ground before putting her full weight on it.  He found that she didn't take as much time to do this as he had thought, but was beginning to wonder if bringing her outside was such a good idea after all.  Still, if there was to be a fire, he wanted her out in the open, where he could get her away from it quickly.  He knew that was her one true fear, being burned again.  He had been the one to pull her from the flames that cost her sight.  He had seen the damage done to her body himself.  To this day, he still didn't know how her face had been spared, while her eyes burned out.
“Anna.”  He said as the stopped near the barn.  He felt her tense up as he spoke.  “We're at the barn.  I want you to put your hand on the wall here and wait for me to come back.  I'm just going to make sure there's nothing in there that will start another fire.”
“Okay.  Hurry back.”
He put her hand on the wall and stepped inside the narrow opening in the door.  This was his first worry.  All the candles in the house were out, and the fire was never left alone until it was nearly out, but sometimes his father kept a lamp burning in the empty stall that had become his workshop.  He couldn't see any light inside, but the door was closed, so he decided to open it a bit to see.
He moved his free hand to the handle, balancing the lamp in his right.  With a light effort he opened it a crack, just large enough to see that there was not so much as a faint glow within.  Satisfied, he closed the door and headed back.  The lack of light was more unnerving than anything else.  He decided this was because of the unusual silence tonight.  Very odd for early summer.  There should have at least been crickets or tree frogs somewhere in the background.
“Falkyn...”  He heard his sister whisper through the door.
“Anna?  What is it?”
“Get.  Out.  Of.  There.  NOW!”  He hadn't though it possible for someone to yell while whispering, but she had just managed to do it.
“What is it?”  He said as he neared the door.
“I saw the rest of my vision...Falkyn.  There's a...dragon.  A dragon is going to come here and tear apart the house and kill everyone and burn everything and-”
“Anna!”  He cut her off.  “Calm down!  There aren't any dragons this far south!  It's not possible!”
“I saw it!  It's green, with wings where its arms should be, and a spade on its tale, and golden eyes as big as your head!”
“Are you sure it was a dragon?  Did you see it...breathe fire?”
She didn't speak, but managed a short nod.
“Well, it must not be here yet.  Merick would go crazy if she heard-”
“She's dead.  The dragon killed her, and all the other horses.  I think it might still be in the barn.”
“The barn?  Anna, the barn isn't big enough for a dragon!”
They both jumped when a low growling sound echoed through the narrow entrance, followed by a vibration, like a bale of hay falling from the loft.
It must have hidden in the rafters when it saw the light from the lamp.
“Falkyn.  We have to wake mom and-”
The beast roared and slammed into the door, knocking it off its hinges with almost no effort.  Anna gasped and sank down against the wall, as if waiting for death.
“Stay down, Anna.  Don't move until I tell you to.  Then follow the edge of the barn until you reach the trees and hide.  I'll find you later.”
“Falkyn, what are you-”
“Over here!”  He yelled, yanking his brush knife from its sheath while he sprinted to a point he knew the beast could see him.  “I'm over here you scaly beast!  Come get me if you can!”
It seemed to understand that it was being insulted, because its eyes narrowed to slits as it hissed at him, lowering its head to the ground.  He wasn't half as far away as he would have liked to have been, but it was too late for that now.
“What's the matter, dragon!  Afraid I might gut you!  Come on!”  He found his voice was too shaky to be convincing, but the dragon didn't mind.  In fact, his words seemed to actually encourage it.  Since his plan was to keep its attention, he continued.
“What kind of dragon are you, anyway?  I've seen draft horses had more shape than you!”  It snapped its jaws and lunged forward, then stopped, as if rethinking its decision.
“Go!”  He yelled, hoping Anna would know he meant her.  “Go now, while you still can!”
He saw her stand at the edge of his sight, running along the wall as fast as she could manage, stumbling over a small pile of wood as she reached the corner.  He saw her, and so did the dragon.
It looked over to her and roared, before sprinting after her.
“No!!!”  He shouted, trying to catch up with it.  “Leave her alone!”
The dragon didn't even look back at him as it neared his hapless sister, jaws wide as it turned its head to grab her.
An arrow stuck in its leg, and the beast hit the ground screaming.
“Falkyn!  See to your sister!”  His father yelled as he knocked another arrow and fired, this time towards the dragon's head.  It snapped a wing up and the bladed tip scraped off harmlessly to the ground.  A moment later, he saw flames shoot from its gaping mouth.  The distance was easily four times the length of the fifty foot barn, probably more.  Still, it wasn't quite enough to reach his father.
He shook his head and sprinted towards the forest.  Anna was safe.  She knew what she was supposed to do.  But his father needed his help here.
“Over here!”  He yelled.  The beast looked at him again, then seemed to decide he was no threat and looked back to his father, taking a few careful steps forward.
It regretted the move instantly as the lamp Falkyn was carrying slammed into its good leg and shattered, igniting the oil than now covered a large part of its body.
With a shriek, it slammed its wings together and rolled over on the ground, swiping its body from side to side once before standing again.  And the flames were out.  Another arrow struck it in the chest, but it barely flinched as it stared at him, growling so low that only he could hear.  It pulled its head back and flames burst towards him again.  Almost too late, he dropped to the ground and covered himself with his cloak to avoid the heat.
As soon as it stopped there was a scream, followed by the twang of a bow.  The dragon roared again and he heard it run.  He looked up in time to see his father torn in two between its bleeding leg and jaw.
“Hiram!  Falkyn!”  He heard his mother's voice and started to yell for her to run, but froze as he saw her light up in a pillar of smoke and flame.
“No!”
It was suddenly glaring at him again.  He could see the anger in its eyes, as if it felt insulted that it had missed him the first time.  Instead of being afraid, he stood and ran towards it with his brush knife over his head.  This seemed to startle it, as it took a few steps back.  Before he got close enough to swing, it snapped its wings forward twice and lifted into the sky.
“Come back here!”  He shouted, but it just flew over the forest towards the only mountains in sight.  Nine days away.  Why would it come all this way to hunt?  Why couldn't it have stayed closer to its own home?
“Falkyn!”  It was Anna's voice.
“Keep shouting, Anna!  It's gone!  Tell me where you are!”
“I'm near the barn!”
He went to where the back of the barn touched the trees and looked around on the ground for her white cloak, but couldn't see it anywhere.
“I'm up here.”  He looked to where her voice had come from, six feet above him in a tree.
“Why are you up there?  That thing could have easily grabbed you without any effort at all!”
“I don't know.  I just hit the tree and found a branch, so I climbed it.  Falkyn, I can't get down.”
“Hold on.”  He said, finally putting his knife away.  He found the branch she had hit and pulled himself up onto it, then worked his way up to where she was standing, her arms wrapped around the tree.
“Now what?”  She asked.  He knew she was crying, and wondered if she already knew about their parents.
“Here.”  He said.  “Give me your hands.”
She didn't speak, but both of her hands were soon holding his right arm.  He moved them to his shoulder and put his left arm under both legs.
“If you're going to jump, I think I'll just live here in the tree.”  She said.
He ignored her and picked her up in her arms.  Not for the first time, he worried at how light she was.
“Falkyn, don't!”
“We're not even as high as the barn door, Anna.”  He said.  “And we both know we can survive that fall.”  Of course, he didn't remind her that their fall had been softened by a cart of hay conveniently parked below.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered a little as she did.  Using his right elbow to brace them against the tree, he worked himself down until he was sitting on the branch, then jumped.
He landed on his feet, as he knew he would, and set her feet back on the ground.  Her arms didn't leave his neck.
“Mom and dad.”  She said.
“They're gone, Anna.”  He couldn't bring himself to say dead, yet.
“I know.  I saw all of it in my vision.  Except...”  She stopped and pulled back so she would have seen him if she still had sight.  “You were supposed to die too, Falkyn.  I saw you burned.  How did you stop it?”
“I dropped to the ground when I saw it.  I think it closes its eyes when it breaths fire.”
“Yeah.  That was in my vision, too.”
“Anything else?”
“You're going to chase it and try to kill it.”
He smiled.  “I thought you said I died.”
“That wasn't part of my vision.  I know you, Falkyn.  I know how you think.  Please, just let it go.  It's not coming back after all the pain It's in now.”
“I can't just let it go, Anna.  It killed mom and dad!”
“I know.  And now you're all I have.  Please, Falkyn.  What if...my vision was from later?  What if you're burned when you catch it?”
He closed his eyes and pulled his arms around his sister.  “I have to do this.  You know I do.  Please, don't try to stop me.”
She pulled herself closer and let most of her weight rest on him.  Then she tightened her shoulders.  “Fine.  But I'm going with you, brother!”

-Twilight Storm | Awaits your feedback with moderately enthusiastic interest...probably. 

Interesting. The interactions are fairly well written, and the actions pretty good. Personally, not really to my taste, but then again I've only really liked two or three fantasy series.

Sometimes I get a similar problem, only it's writer's block. Usually it's "plot-bunny about a 'fic is preventing me from focusing on another 'fic".

Happens to everyone.

Before I comment on Storm's work, have a sample of some writing in the style of CS Multilaser.

The Khorne Berserker pulled the trigger, and watched as the Eldar's torso was torn to shreds by the round. The Berserker lowered the sniper rifle and smiled grimly. More souls for Slaanesh, he thought.

And now from a Matt Ward perspective.

The Khorne Berserker charged down the hill, screaming an incoherent cry of hatred, insanity, and depravity. The subject of all the man's rage turned, too late, to defend itself. The Khorne Berserker brought down his mighty chain-axe upon the foe, but all of a sudden paused. The Eldar fled, ill-equipped to fend off such a threat. The Khorne Berserker stood motionless, as slowly the mist of bloodlust cleared, giving way to a single terrifying realisation.

I can never be an Ultramarine.

The berserker raised his bolt pistol to his head, and pulled the trigger.

So, Whiskey, would you say my imitations are accurate?

Limey.

If only... Anyway, from memory it stands for something boring like "Land," and is only (to my knowledge) used for infantry weaponry since the Korean War, from rifles to mortars and stationary guns. Armoured vehicles, unlike in America, do not share a designation system with firearms and the like.

Have a manly British battle rifle being wielded by an American,

And a Canadian,

And some Jamaicans,

And one being wielded by an invisible Limey.

Or you could have gone here and found all this yourself, but it's funnier this way. Wikipedia didn't see it fit to allow a British soldier using a British battle rifle (okay, its origins are Belgian, but shush) to appear on the page of said rifle. Ah well. Still, manly rifle.

Change of plan, due to my somewhat inconsistent opinions on 7.62 vs 5.56 I shall invite the audience to discuss.

Quite frankly the only redeeming feature of the Ultramarines movie in my eyes are the acceptably cool action scenes, the WARHAMMER 40K MOVIE AWESUM factor, and the Imperial Fists Chaplain, who is a total badass.

Well, first off, which 7.62mm cartridge are you referring to? I doubt you're thinking of the 7.62x67mm (.300 Winchester Magnum), so I'm going to guess you're considering either the 7.62x39mm Russian, or the 7.62x51mm NATO (.308 Winchester, which is odd, since both the .300 WinMag and the .308 Win have the same caliber projectile).

7.62x39mm vs 5.56mm NATO:

I think that the Wikipedia article on the AK-47 vs the M16 offers a good discussion of it; the 7.62 (or sometimes .30) Short Russian, as it is sometimes known (7.62x54Rmm is the 7.62 Russian/.30 Russian) has more kinetic energy and a heavier, harder-to-deflect projectile, but has inferior muzzle velocity and range.

5.56 NATO also benefits from being quite a bit lighter, though somewhat less lethal; since it's lighter, for a given ammunition weight, the M16 can be carried with nearly twice as much ammunition as an AK47. Part of that, though, is due to the AK47's greater mass, and the higher weight (and also durability) of the AK47 magazines.

To tell truth, I personally* would prefer the 7.62 Short Russian for a short-ranged assault rifle, good for urban combat; a quick-change heavy barrel equipped, belt-fed LMG would be an excellent complement (alas, not something the Russians ever built; quick-change barrels seem to be a uniquely Western feature). For longer-ranged and open-terrain ops, the 5.56 NATO shines quite well, and especially for LMG or SAW type weapons, where the lighter cartridges allow one to carry much more than the 7.62 Short Russian.

Of note is that the Russian military no longer fields a 7.62x39mm weapon as its service rifle; instead, the AK74 family is used. The AK74 is in some ways simply an AK47 chambered in the new(er) 5.45x39mm cartridge, which, AFAIK, has similar ballistics to the 5.56 NATO, but benefits from being used in comparatively more reliable and robust weapons.

7.62 NATO vs 5.56 NATO:

The cartridges are used in different roles, for the most part. Current issue assault rifles and SAWs/LMGs are chambered in the 5.56 NATO, for the lightweight, controllable nature of the round, whilst battle rifles, designated marksman and sniper weapons, as well as medium machine guns and coaxial machine guns on many armored fighting vehicles chamber the 7.62 NATO for its longer-ranged, higher-power punch. This is naturally at the cost of being a larger, heavier cartridge, and also requiring a heavier weapon to fire, particularly in a sustained fire or sniper weapon, which requires great thermal tolerance and high accuracy, respectively.

As such, 7.62 NATO and 5.56 NATO aren't particularly comparable; the different roles each are suited to rarely overlap, and usually it's a case of scale when they do; for example, 5.56mm weapons are far more suited to a squad support machine gun role due to commonality with service rifle chambering, and lighter weight allow an LMG gunner to carry far more ammunition than a typical MMG gunner. It also allows an LMG to be operated by only a single person, who carries both the weapon, spare quick-change barrels (if applicable), and ammunition, whilst most MMGs are of such weight that they require an additional operator to carry spare ammunition, and usually the quick-change barrels.

*My personal preference is due primarily to the fact that most weapons chambering 7.62x39mm rounds are part of the Kalashnikov lineage, making them supremely reliable and easy to maintain. This is, rather than some superficial "stick-it-to-the-man"/'countercultural' reason, is why I rather prefer the AK-series over the M16 family, less the Ruger SR22 and H&K HK416/417 (&civil variants thereof), though for different reasons.

The SR22 is due to the fact that it's not so much an M16 chambered in .22 Long Rifle, so much as a Ruger 10/22 action in an M16-style 'frame'. It also looks pretty cool for a .22. The HK416/417 (&civil variants thereof) are due to the fact that the first time I saw it, on Discovery Channel's Future Weapons show, the weapon was:

1) Buried in a 'sandbox', removed and fired without cleaning, removing the magazine, or attempting to clear the barrel; it was basically "bury gun, wait a minute while chatting with H&K representative, then pull gun out and let rip on full-auto".
2) Placed in a bucket of water, then allowed to entirely fill with water (the gun, that is), and subsequently removed and fired full-auto with absolutely no malfunctions whatsoever.

Granted, the former is something that the AK47 could probably do (did you know that the 7.62x39mm cartridge is shaped as it is to increase reliability of feeding/firing with dirt or other debris in the chamber?), and the latter quite possibly as well. However, the HK416 has the benefit of being far more modular than most AK-models.

EDIT: has anyone else read Michael Grant's Gone series? I've got the first novel and am planning to buy the second (no I'm not asking for buying advice or reviews, I already know I like it).

Well my preference is the 7.62x39mm for shorter range engagements; higher projectile mass allows the bullet to be assured to "put the target down", i.e. do lots of damage to people. A 7.62x51mm (or the 7.62 NATO) weapon is far superior in a longer-range engagement certainly.

IMO, the main draw of the 5.56mm cartridge is that it is lightweight, and has little recoil. Compared to the 7.62x51mm NATO, especially; the full-caliber battle rifles like the FAL and the M14 especially were notorious for being difficult to control in automatic fire. Both were also known to be quite heavy. For a given ammunition load for a weapon like the FAL, including the weapon, I wager I could carry more ammunition, with an LMG, with quick-change barrels, if chambered for 5.56mm NATO or the Russian 5.45x39mm.

OTOH, to my knowledge there does not exist a quick-change barrel LMG chambered for the 5.45x39mm cartridge. Meh, what can you do.

Random question: do you happen to know how about how much an Accuracy International L96A1 would cost, in US$?

EDIT:

Thought I'd just throw this out again, as it seems it's been ignored.

FictionPress.Net. If you don't intend to publish the story professionally, then post it up on FictionPress.Net. I'm a member of the "sister site", FanFiction.Net, and FF.Net (whose functionality is presumably duplicated on FP.Net) is really nice for publishing 'fics.