no lag then (AU) | thatcher

Let's Share! has (finally) launched! Our first article is a World of Tanks Guide by Enderclaw!
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  • There was a resounding crack in the air, and then, a gunshot. His heart stopped beating for a moment, and all in the world around him seemed black. "Who dares, wins." The motto of the S.A.S. was planted firmly inside his head, a reminder to keep going in life, to keep pushing onward. Sometimes it gave him hope, sometimes it didn't. It was a fickle situation he was in, and it was all the Spetsnaz's fault. A nimble hand brushes through dirty blonde hair, the man letting out a sigh as he rests his head back on the reinforced wall. "Some shit show, huh James?" is a thought that rings in his head, blue eyes emptily staring at the ceiling while another gunshot rung out into the night. "I'm probably going to die here too."

    Never in his life would he think he'd be here, in this moment. Trained by the best, enduring the worst, and coming out whole in the end. It was a shocking thought for someone as fragile as him. As pathetically weak, and undeserving of life. His face is void entirely of expression, but deep inside the fear grows larger and larger, almost pressuring him to scream. A one versus one. He had no chance of winning. "Why am I here..." He knew it was going to be the end for him. Not even his Moni could stop any of the oncoming EMP grenades, as they disabled each of them one by one. One by one. His leg was torn open, blood trickling over the cool concrete ground of the basement. His deathbed. "Fuck me."

    let's have a black celebration tonight

    information | shadow veil | penned by magi

  • / oops late

    "If only I knew 'ow th' fuckin' kid felt, I wouldn't be standin' here muckin' about with my gadgets," his back is leaned the opposite side of the reinforced wall, and he inhales heavily through his nostrils, closing his eyes with brows furrowing deeply. "Fuckin' Russians. They're the reason why we're in this fuckin' mess." Its time to end this. Bracing himself, he clutches his pistol tighter in his grasp, moving his free hand to the door knob. Turning it slowly and quietly, he holds his breath for only a moment, and all hell breaks loose. Bursting into the room with narrowed eyes scanning the surroundings, he spies him by the wall. He spies him, and he's injured. "Kid..." But this isn't the time to worry, what had to be done must be done. He understands there's no time for him to react, and that's all he needs. With shut eyes and a softly whispered "I'm sorry,"

    he pulls the trigger.