What happened to OC? - CLOSED Carnage?!
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Calypso

So, I write sometimes

As the title suggest, I occasionally indulge in spewing my half baked thoughts onto virtual paper. Most of the time it tends to be short quips, inspired by brief moments of euphoria induced for no apparent reason. Tonight, however, I took a shot at some Halo fanfiction. (don't mock me pls) It seemed like a nice universe to write about considering my immense interest in it and the established lore that I could extract from. 

 

Here's the link. (Keep in mind many of the names I need to research a little bit so they may not be accurate to the lore, I.E. the AI Kalmiya)

 

Does anyone think I should continue this? The more I read over it, the more I grow dissatisfied with my writing and want to start over completely.

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uKZA277.png

 

 

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Tiddy-bits:

Back again, for some reason. In between the mounds of work I've been drowning in, I found some time to write something new. Not from the same storyline, but still within the Halo universe. It's sort of like the bastard child who lives in the basement of Conversations from the Universe. I might even turn it into a series!

 

 

I'd love some feedback.

 

UNSC Colony Sargasso // September 20th, 2546

 

“Squid-head sighted. Downrange at your 2 o'clock. 300 metres.”

Sergeant Doss readjusted his rifle to the heading, centring the head of the minor. He squeezed the trigger, a thundering noise reverberating throughout his body as a .50 calibre round sailed through the air and struck the alien through the side of his head. He fell sideways into his trench, the force of the bullet pulling him in.

Sergeant Doss' spotter, Private Hammond, whispered a small “oo-rah” as the body fell.

“Good shot,” Doss half registered as he scanned the horizon for other targets. Hammond did the same, though his BR-55 didn't have the raw power of the Anti Materiel sniper rifle his superior held. Hammond squeezed off a shot, taking down a grunt and sending his methane feed mouthpiece sailing. Hammond sighed.

“You think we're going to get off this planet, sir?”

“Depends,” Doss replied as he sighted another minor that had popped its head up to look around. “If the Navy brass can hold their own in orbit, we'll be extracted to hop along to the next colony. If not, we'll be vaporized by a plasma mortar or turned to glass. It all rests on how long we last.” Doss cursed as the elite took cover just as he was about to pull the trigger.

“You're new, aren't you?” Doss posed.

“I am, sir. I came off Reach 3 weeks ago. How could you tell?”

Doss chuckled lightly. “You've got green all over you, son.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I don't know if the Marines was exactly what I pictured. Didn't figure I'd be spending days squatting in trenches.” Hammond replied.

Doss took his eye off of his scope, and eyed the Private quizzically.

“Section II must be getting pretty good.” Doss cleared his throat before continuing. “Let me enlighten you here, Private. Odds are you won't survive your first engagement. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but that's just how it is. You're green as hell, skinny as hell and you probably didn't even read the strategic reports before jumping into a pelican, grinning and wanting to get your boots on the ground. It's all fucked down here. Stick with me, you might make it through. My squad's gone, so I need a new spotter.”

Hammond stopped, laying his rifle on its side. He gulped, eyes red and bulging. He cradled his head in his hands.

“Sorry, s-sir. It's a lot to take in. I just want to see my family again, make sure they're safe. I don't know if I'm made to be a soldier.”

Doss stared grimly at the ground.

“We all want this shit to end, but if we didn't fight then who would? We'd just be charred bones in a field.”

Doss pulled his eye back to his scope, surveying the landscape. In the distance, a chain gun rattled away before abruptly falling silent.

“Check your range, Private. We still have a job to do.”

Hammond remained still for a moment, head resting in his hands before nodding and picking up his rifle. His heart jumped as he noticed a squad of covenant cresting the top of their trench.

“Sir, there's a bunch of them at 11 o'clock.”

Doss swivelled his rifle around, taking aim at the head of an elite major.

“Don't fire until I do,” Doss quipped. He centred his sights on the major's head and held his breath. A lone crack rang out as the major dropped. The grunts stared, confused at the body of their leader before beginning to scatter. Hammond fired, dropping one before Doss fired again. His shot punched through the methane tank of a grunt standing in the centre of the group. It exploded, consuming the others and igniting their tanks as well. As the dust settled, a single grunt raised its hand weakly before it fell to the ground, limp.

Doss sighed. They never stopped coming.

Takka and Floofies like this

uKZA277.png

 

 

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