N3v3rM0r3
Ezekiel
Pizza Box
RPM
Hos
rush99999
tadcfnaf
Syrenrei
Zeus23I'd take it up just on the strength of that add, but the smell makes me sick :(
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 20 days ago
Status
Recent Statuses
20 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
likes
28 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
like
3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
1
like
Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
No soldier liked swiming. It was slow, awkward and there was no cover, plus there was a fair chance that unless you had specialist hardware it wouldn't work. Junebug was no exception but she had gone through rigorous swim PT and at least she didnt have her armor and fifty pounds of gear to contend with. Holding her breath she plunged into the water after the woman diving straight down two or three meters before moving sideways through and opening. Following her guide she kicked off the bottom stiring up a storm of blackish sand before racing upwards and breaking the surface once more. Their guide was grinning with genuine excitment at the stunt and it bought a small smile to Junebugs own lips as she turned her light back to reveal Neil and Taya breaking the water. Brushing wet hair from her eyes she climbed into the ankle deep water of the ledge. To her surprise there was light filtering down from above and a series of handholes was carved into the side of the tunnel. Their guide pointed excitedly.
"Its a filter," Junebug realised as she reached down to scoop some of the sand from her sandal. As she suspected it was a mix of fine white river sand and a dark black substance.
"They must dump charcoal into the pit there to filter it," she mused wondering at the ingenuity of people who it was easy to think of as simple savages.
"Probably how your not so secret admirer knows about it." Taya giggled at the jibe which made Junebug grin, teeth flashing white in the dark. The girl had a right to be scared but if someone could laugh at a time like this there was hope for them. Neil said nothing but she had the impression he was blushing. Lossening her patrol sling she draped her weapon over her shoulder and climbed up the handholes pushing back a small cover of broad leaves that clearly kept the rain and animals mostly at bay.
It was a relief to be out in the open again, something only noticeable with the absence of tension. Junebug wasn't claustraphobic, no tanker was, but confidned spaces were killboxes in her mind and best avoided where possible. The clearing the found themselves in was surrounded by medium sized trees. The area was clearly tended and some sort of legume type crop was trellesed around them. It was nearly nightfall now but judging by the glow from across the low ridge the party was still in full swing back at the city. With a sigh of relief Junebug sank down onto one of the large roots, feeling the cool water begin to evaporate in the tropical heat.
"Captain," Taya said with a ghost of a smile, "You look a bit like a plucked chicken." Junebug regarded herself for a moment, in several places the feathers had come away from her cape exposing the underlying animal skin, giving her a patchy and disreputable look.
"Well so long as Im not a cooked goose I guess I'll count my blessings," she retorted. It was a weak joke but it got a chuckled that helped to release the tension of the past several hours.
"We ought to get going back towards the Highlander," she mused, levering open the breech of her submachine gun as she did so. A greenish sludge dribbled from the chamber as she freed it. Sighing she stripped the magazine from the weapon and tumbed free one of the plastic sheathed rounds. It was the size of a poker chip and comprised a hyper dense metal pellet along with coiled hyper conductive copper gold alloy that worked with the electromagnets to accelerate the round down the barrel. Experimentally she rubbed the round between thumb and forefinger. The plastic crumbled like compacted dirt.
"Curse me for a fool," she said and then looked up at the puzzled expression on her comrades faces.
"From my perspective these rounds have only been here a couple of days," she explained, tossing the worthless round away and trying the next one.
"But really, they have been under spring pressure for two years, its work hardened the plastic." The second round crumbled also.
"Damn lucky it didn't get me killed right now," she groused. This round still workded and she manually cycled it through the weapon with a series of clacks as she pulled the action open and closed making sure the loading mechanism worked. It was no guarntee but it was the best she was going to get.
"I think our best bet is to hike a few clicks off into the bush," she made a general gesture in the direction of the Highlander, "And then try to figure out what we are going to do."
"Also," she went on, turning to address the native girl in her own tongue, she was watching Sayeeda as though she was performing some sort of magic trick.
"You got a name?"
@POOHEAD189
"Its a filter," Junebug realised as she reached down to scoop some of the sand from her sandal. As she suspected it was a mix of fine white river sand and a dark black substance.
"They must dump charcoal into the pit there to filter it," she mused wondering at the ingenuity of people who it was easy to think of as simple savages.
"Probably how your not so secret admirer knows about it." Taya giggled at the jibe which made Junebug grin, teeth flashing white in the dark. The girl had a right to be scared but if someone could laugh at a time like this there was hope for them. Neil said nothing but she had the impression he was blushing. Lossening her patrol sling she draped her weapon over her shoulder and climbed up the handholes pushing back a small cover of broad leaves that clearly kept the rain and animals mostly at bay.
It was a relief to be out in the open again, something only noticeable with the absence of tension. Junebug wasn't claustraphobic, no tanker was, but confidned spaces were killboxes in her mind and best avoided where possible. The clearing the found themselves in was surrounded by medium sized trees. The area was clearly tended and some sort of legume type crop was trellesed around them. It was nearly nightfall now but judging by the glow from across the low ridge the party was still in full swing back at the city. With a sigh of relief Junebug sank down onto one of the large roots, feeling the cool water begin to evaporate in the tropical heat.
"Captain," Taya said with a ghost of a smile, "You look a bit like a plucked chicken." Junebug regarded herself for a moment, in several places the feathers had come away from her cape exposing the underlying animal skin, giving her a patchy and disreputable look.
"Well so long as Im not a cooked goose I guess I'll count my blessings," she retorted. It was a weak joke but it got a chuckled that helped to release the tension of the past several hours.
"We ought to get going back towards the Highlander," she mused, levering open the breech of her submachine gun as she did so. A greenish sludge dribbled from the chamber as she freed it. Sighing she stripped the magazine from the weapon and tumbed free one of the plastic sheathed rounds. It was the size of a poker chip and comprised a hyper dense metal pellet along with coiled hyper conductive copper gold alloy that worked with the electromagnets to accelerate the round down the barrel. Experimentally she rubbed the round between thumb and forefinger. The plastic crumbled like compacted dirt.
"Curse me for a fool," she said and then looked up at the puzzled expression on her comrades faces.
"From my perspective these rounds have only been here a couple of days," she explained, tossing the worthless round away and trying the next one.
"But really, they have been under spring pressure for two years, its work hardened the plastic." The second round crumbled also.
"Damn lucky it didn't get me killed right now," she groused. This round still workded and she manually cycled it through the weapon with a series of clacks as she pulled the action open and closed making sure the loading mechanism worked. It was no guarntee but it was the best she was going to get.
"I think our best bet is to hike a few clicks off into the bush," she made a general gesture in the direction of the Highlander, "And then try to figure out what we are going to do."
"Also," she went on, turning to address the native girl in her own tongue, she was watching Sayeeda as though she was performing some sort of magic trick.
"You got a name?"
@POOHEAD189
"Allah Protect me!" The thief screamed and raised his hands as though to ward off a blow. The snake, as long as a date palm and nearly as thick, struck like lightning. Ma'kum spun away with an agonized shriek but before he could hit the ground a second snake struck from the darkness, then a third. Within moments the thief was silent and all that could be heard was the rasping of scales and the low hissing of the great serpents.
Behind them came the grinding sound of stone against stone. Amira did not look back but spoke after a moment, sensing Rhaak's question.
"The guardians of the tomb will not be detered by a simple rockfall. Even should it take them a thousand years to clear the way, they will come for those who disturbed their slumber," her tone was not worried and perhaps held a hint of wonderment at such a thing, though it was difficult to tell.
"We must cross this cavern, there will be a sacrum, where the spells of this place are carved into the walls," she explained as she looked around trying to find an alternate route past the snakes.
"Without reaching it we cannot hope to escape this place."
@POOHEAD189
Behind them came the grinding sound of stone against stone. Amira did not look back but spoke after a moment, sensing Rhaak's question.
"The guardians of the tomb will not be detered by a simple rockfall. Even should it take them a thousand years to clear the way, they will come for those who disturbed their slumber," her tone was not worried and perhaps held a hint of wonderment at such a thing, though it was difficult to tell.
"We must cross this cavern, there will be a sacrum, where the spells of this place are carved into the walls," she explained as she looked around trying to find an alternate route past the snakes.
"Without reaching it we cannot hope to escape this place."
@POOHEAD189
Junebug hurled her spear into one of the shaman who was rising with a wicked looking bone kris, the heavy wooden shaft lodging deep in his stomach but failing to kill him instantly. The man fell to the ground screaming and pawing at the shaft as she snatched the thrown sub machine gun from the air. With no time to unhook the shield she clicked the safety off with her thumb and fired one handed into one of the warriors, on whose 'side' she had no idea, hurling him back with a neat hole above his breast bone.
Wetumpkah lunged at her and she leveled her weapon and pulled the trigger by instinct. There was a metallic click and an audible crunch as the weapon misfired. The shaman was fat and even had he been thin would have outweighed Junebug by a considerable margin and the tackle sent her sprawling down the stone steps. By instinct and training she held onto her weapon and managed to curl herself into a ball, transforming a falls worth of broken bones into an equivalent amount of bruises and scrapes. Dizzily, she pushed herself to her feet when she hit the next tier a moment before Wetumpkah could manage the feet.
"We are friends damn it," she shouted at the shaman as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, drawing a long metallic blade from his belt and grinning through his stained teeth at her. He snarled something at her in his own tongue, too rapidly for her to translate it, it seemed to have something to do with regretting not sacrificing Neil to Rakeeri when he had the chance. Sighing she pointed her weapon and pulled the trigger again. It clicked a misfire a second time. Screaming a curse to the goddess she worked the action to eject the stuck round and pulled the trigger again. A third misfire. Wetumpkah rushed her with his knife and she batted him away with her shield, ducking under his arcing knife. The shaman laughed an ugly laugh as he squared off again.
"Rakeeri protects me from your magic starman!" he sneered triumphantly, sneering at the weapon in her hand. Sayeeda flipped the gun in her hand, caught it by the barrel and then smashed it down into the shaman's grinning face. Wetumpkah went down like a sack of carbohydrate mix and Junebug felt teeth crunch under the blow. For good measure, it was never a mistake to put the boot in when you had the advantage, she delivered two more overhand blows into the supine Shaman and then sprang over his mewling body and down the steps.
Below her was a scene of utter chaos. Hundreds of natives were engaged in brutal hand to hand fighting. From her elevated position Junebug could pick out at least three distinct factions, although why there should be so many she could guess. Shields splintered and spears arched in the afternoon light. Here and there fires were springing up and some of the larger groups were gathering into crude phalanx. Sayeeda even saw children, some who must have been under then throwing stones and hurling projectiles from small leather slings.
Neil and the two women he was apparently carrying had reached the bottom step. There were natives all around, though the sound of his pistol firing seemed to have cleared a space around them. She vaulted two wrestling men and raced down the stairs after them.
"I don't know what the fuck is going on," she said as she reached the trio, "But I'm quietly confident that its well after time we got the hell out of here." The well endowed native girl pulled at Neils arm and gestured wildly, spewing forth a liquid stream of the native babble. The woman was clearly have hysterical so Sayeeda tucked her submachine gun into the waist band of her ridiculous cape and grabbed her by both shoulders.
"SLOW. DOWN. BREATHE," she ordered sternly but calmly. The woman continued to babble for a second longer but then her words slowed, her ample chest heaving.
"Know...safe way..noo mubanta," she managed gesturing towards a small stone structure a few dozen meters from the base of the pyramid. Junebug had no idea who or what a mubanta was, but it didn't seem a time for linguistic lessons.
"Great, lead the way!" Junebug yelled, combat trained voice clear even over the cacophony of the clan war or whatever the hell it was. She shoved the girl physically in the direction she indicated. With a hesitant step the girl stumbled across the square and, after making sure they were following, ran into the building. Junebug followed without hesitation, figuring the place was at least defensible if not a fortress. Neil fired his pistol into an onrushing native and dropped Taya, now apparently willing to move under her own power and followed.
The interior of the building was dark and cool and dominated by what looked to be a large stone well, circular and about four feet wide. The girl hopped up onto the wall and slipped over the side with a splash. The three companions exchanged looks ranging from puzzlement to horror and rushed to peer down. The native girl stood knee deep in dark water waving frantically to them and pointing away to the west.
"Its an aqueduct...," Junebug realized, remembering the large stonework she had seen in the hills on the way in.
"They must bring water in from the mountain streams," she explained even as she climbed into the well and dropped with a splash. The water was shockingly cold for a tropical environment but it wasn't as though she hadn't worked up a sweat. Taya splashed down next losing her balance and sprawling in the water, completely submerging for a moment before popping back up gasping. Neil came last and managed to land more gracefully. Now they were of a level Junebug could see the native girl was pointing at a series of stone arches that ran at a slight upward angle, water trickled down and the stone footing looked slick but manageable.
"Guess we are going this way," Sayeeda commented and flicked on the intergral flashlight in her submachine gun. The beam splashed illumination up the aqueducts tunnel.
"At least something on this damned thing is working," she grumbled.
@POOHEAD189
Wetumpkah lunged at her and she leveled her weapon and pulled the trigger by instinct. There was a metallic click and an audible crunch as the weapon misfired. The shaman was fat and even had he been thin would have outweighed Junebug by a considerable margin and the tackle sent her sprawling down the stone steps. By instinct and training she held onto her weapon and managed to curl herself into a ball, transforming a falls worth of broken bones into an equivalent amount of bruises and scrapes. Dizzily, she pushed herself to her feet when she hit the next tier a moment before Wetumpkah could manage the feet.
"We are friends damn it," she shouted at the shaman as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, drawing a long metallic blade from his belt and grinning through his stained teeth at her. He snarled something at her in his own tongue, too rapidly for her to translate it, it seemed to have something to do with regretting not sacrificing Neil to Rakeeri when he had the chance. Sighing she pointed her weapon and pulled the trigger again. It clicked a misfire a second time. Screaming a curse to the goddess she worked the action to eject the stuck round and pulled the trigger again. A third misfire. Wetumpkah rushed her with his knife and she batted him away with her shield, ducking under his arcing knife. The shaman laughed an ugly laugh as he squared off again.
"Rakeeri protects me from your magic starman!" he sneered triumphantly, sneering at the weapon in her hand. Sayeeda flipped the gun in her hand, caught it by the barrel and then smashed it down into the shaman's grinning face. Wetumpkah went down like a sack of carbohydrate mix and Junebug felt teeth crunch under the blow. For good measure, it was never a mistake to put the boot in when you had the advantage, she delivered two more overhand blows into the supine Shaman and then sprang over his mewling body and down the steps.
Below her was a scene of utter chaos. Hundreds of natives were engaged in brutal hand to hand fighting. From her elevated position Junebug could pick out at least three distinct factions, although why there should be so many she could guess. Shields splintered and spears arched in the afternoon light. Here and there fires were springing up and some of the larger groups were gathering into crude phalanx. Sayeeda even saw children, some who must have been under then throwing stones and hurling projectiles from small leather slings.
Neil and the two women he was apparently carrying had reached the bottom step. There were natives all around, though the sound of his pistol firing seemed to have cleared a space around them. She vaulted two wrestling men and raced down the stairs after them.
"I don't know what the fuck is going on," she said as she reached the trio, "But I'm quietly confident that its well after time we got the hell out of here." The well endowed native girl pulled at Neils arm and gestured wildly, spewing forth a liquid stream of the native babble. The woman was clearly have hysterical so Sayeeda tucked her submachine gun into the waist band of her ridiculous cape and grabbed her by both shoulders.
"SLOW. DOWN. BREATHE," she ordered sternly but calmly. The woman continued to babble for a second longer but then her words slowed, her ample chest heaving.
"Know...safe way..noo mubanta," she managed gesturing towards a small stone structure a few dozen meters from the base of the pyramid. Junebug had no idea who or what a mubanta was, but it didn't seem a time for linguistic lessons.
"Great, lead the way!" Junebug yelled, combat trained voice clear even over the cacophony of the clan war or whatever the hell it was. She shoved the girl physically in the direction she indicated. With a hesitant step the girl stumbled across the square and, after making sure they were following, ran into the building. Junebug followed without hesitation, figuring the place was at least defensible if not a fortress. Neil fired his pistol into an onrushing native and dropped Taya, now apparently willing to move under her own power and followed.
The interior of the building was dark and cool and dominated by what looked to be a large stone well, circular and about four feet wide. The girl hopped up onto the wall and slipped over the side with a splash. The three companions exchanged looks ranging from puzzlement to horror and rushed to peer down. The native girl stood knee deep in dark water waving frantically to them and pointing away to the west.
"Its an aqueduct...," Junebug realized, remembering the large stonework she had seen in the hills on the way in.
"They must bring water in from the mountain streams," she explained even as she climbed into the well and dropped with a splash. The water was shockingly cold for a tropical environment but it wasn't as though she hadn't worked up a sweat. Taya splashed down next losing her balance and sprawling in the water, completely submerging for a moment before popping back up gasping. Neil came last and managed to land more gracefully. Now they were of a level Junebug could see the native girl was pointing at a series of stone arches that ran at a slight upward angle, water trickled down and the stone footing looked slick but manageable.
"Guess we are going this way," Sayeeda commented and flicked on the intergral flashlight in her submachine gun. The beam splashed illumination up the aqueducts tunnel.
"At least something on this damned thing is working," she grumbled.
@POOHEAD189
All this talk of Commissars makes me want to create a 40k RP...
I think the 40k crew has pretty much every permutation of that universe covered.
I also heard that it was Anti-fa on the grassy knoll. Of course the main stream media isn't reporting on that.
The tomb smelled of dust and the acrid chemicals of embalming, if there had ever been a hint of rotting flesh it had long since fled the desiccated corpses of the no longer human guardians. They creaked oddly as they advanced, ancient leather and sinew stretching as it was flexed for the first time in uncounted generations.
"They cannot be destroyed with weapons," Amira cautioned as Mak'um, to everyone's surprise, scuttled forward and snatched up the scroll, narrowly avoiding a decapitating strike from the closest of the creatures. Rhaak and Mak'um exchanged uncertain looks.
"Back into the passageway she commanded, gesturing to the spider web clogged doorway. Mak'um bolted with the energy of terror crashing through the cobwebs into the darkened passageway beyond. Almost immediately he stumbled and clattered across the ground on some unseen obstruction as Amira strode quickly after him.
Once through the archway the light of the torch revealed a long hallway with colorful if faded paintings etched into the wall, festooned with a strange script of letters and glyphs. The floor was in disrepair showing the wear of ages. The thief had evidently tripped on one of the cracks in the sandstone and was even now pulling himself to his feet and tearing frantically at the spiderwebs which practically coccooned his slender body.
"Wait," Amira commanded as Rhaak backed into the room followed by the slowly advancing tomb guardians.
"Lift me," she directed.
"Master?" the pit fighter asked in confusion, keeping his back to her and his weapon to the creatures now only fifteen paces away.
"I cannot reach the key stone, lift me up." Awkwardly Rhaak tossed his sword to Mak'um, a dubious gesture, and made a stirup of his hands. Amira stepped into into it the slave straightening effortlessly to bring her to the level of the stone archway. With deliberate care she placed two fingers on the key stone. Sand began to fall first in a trickle and then in an increasing torrent. The stones groaned and buckled as the key stone began to fail.
"Put me down, and I suggest you move quickly," she commented, the groaning of the stone arch grew more pronounced and dust rained from the ceiling. Without hurrying she strode down the hall as behind her a titanic crash sounded as thousands of pounds of stone gave way and tumbled into the hallway whipping a billowing cloud of dust around her. No grain of it settled on her as she strode out of the dust storm.
"By Allah," Ma'kum whined, making a sign to ward of evil.
"A witch!"
@POOHEAD189
"They cannot be destroyed with weapons," Amira cautioned as Mak'um, to everyone's surprise, scuttled forward and snatched up the scroll, narrowly avoiding a decapitating strike from the closest of the creatures. Rhaak and Mak'um exchanged uncertain looks.
"Back into the passageway she commanded, gesturing to the spider web clogged doorway. Mak'um bolted with the energy of terror crashing through the cobwebs into the darkened passageway beyond. Almost immediately he stumbled and clattered across the ground on some unseen obstruction as Amira strode quickly after him.
Once through the archway the light of the torch revealed a long hallway with colorful if faded paintings etched into the wall, festooned with a strange script of letters and glyphs. The floor was in disrepair showing the wear of ages. The thief had evidently tripped on one of the cracks in the sandstone and was even now pulling himself to his feet and tearing frantically at the spiderwebs which practically coccooned his slender body.
"Wait," Amira commanded as Rhaak backed into the room followed by the slowly advancing tomb guardians.
"Lift me," she directed.
"Master?" the pit fighter asked in confusion, keeping his back to her and his weapon to the creatures now only fifteen paces away.
"I cannot reach the key stone, lift me up." Awkwardly Rhaak tossed his sword to Mak'um, a dubious gesture, and made a stirup of his hands. Amira stepped into into it the slave straightening effortlessly to bring her to the level of the stone archway. With deliberate care she placed two fingers on the key stone. Sand began to fall first in a trickle and then in an increasing torrent. The stones groaned and buckled as the key stone began to fail.
"Put me down, and I suggest you move quickly," she commented, the groaning of the stone arch grew more pronounced and dust rained from the ceiling. Without hurrying she strode down the hall as behind her a titanic crash sounded as thousands of pounds of stone gave way and tumbled into the hallway whipping a billowing cloud of dust around her. No grain of it settled on her as she strode out of the dust storm.
"By Allah," Ma'kum whined, making a sign to ward of evil.
"A witch!"
@POOHEAD189
Obama is plotting a second civil war? This Squawker thing is a font of new information.
https://squawker.org/politics/is-obama-plotting-a-second-world-war-ex-aide-says-yes-obama-still-thinks-hes-the-president/
Also I really need to get a sexy commissar uniform...
https://squawker.org/politics/is-obama-plotting-a-second-world-war-ex-aide-says-yes-obama-still-thinks-hes-the-president/
Also I really need to get a sexy commissar uniform...
Junebug stood beside Neil leaning on her staff. She was keyed up, way too keyed up, and her skin prickled with adrenaline. After years of action her body was struggling to separate the stimuli of games from the stimuli of war. It made her queasy and made her palms itch for a weapon. Sweat glistened on her body despite several attempts to wipe it away with the cloak of feathers she had been given, the material was just not adsorbent enough to do the job.
"Haven't a clue but I don't like the smell of it," she commented glancing around at the locals. Their faces seemed to be mixed between confusion and fear, not a particularly good sign for a celebration. The Shaman were gesticulating at each other now, more agressive now that the traditional forms of greeting had been expended.
"...honor of our...not you..." angry semi intelligent voices sounded in Junebug's ear. Her face blanked to the neutral expression she wore when she was confused before she realised that Taya, still seated by the Wetumpkah had activated her implant and was transmitting the conversation to her.
"I like, really don't like where..." Junebug began as she tried to parse the archaic language but before she could finish the thought Wetumkah shot to his feet and struck one of the other shaman across the face with a full armed blow. The servant girl, apparently taking a moment away from mooning over Neil, screamed as another of the shaman drew a dagger of some sort of black volanic glass from his robes and lunged at Wetumpkah.
"Break! Taya get clear!" Junebug shouted, trusting her military grade radio to squash the girls more ornate but less powerful civilian model. The teir of the Zigguarat was descending into a chaos of flying crockery and flailing fists. Cries of horror and outrage gripped the crowd as half the men rushed towards the base of the pyramid and the other half tried to flee into the low structures of the village. Whether by luck or bad timing a score of warriors trotted from the treeline in full ceremonial war gear. The doubtless had intended to take part in the games but seeing their Shaman under attack rushed towards the villagers, flinging spears and screaming guttural war cries. Junebug hardly had time to pivot and duck behind her shield, covering Neil as well before the flight of missiles plunged down one slamming into her shield with a musical thunk.
"Go go go!" Junebug yelled, tossing aside her staff and plucking the spear from the shield. Both of their weapons were on the top tier with Taya and the stars alone knew whether the girl would think to grab them. Even as she spoke a disorganized group of native warriors with bone swords and rock clubs rushed from the huts to crash into the interlopers. This was going to get really messy.
@POOHEAD189
"Haven't a clue but I don't like the smell of it," she commented glancing around at the locals. Their faces seemed to be mixed between confusion and fear, not a particularly good sign for a celebration. The Shaman were gesticulating at each other now, more agressive now that the traditional forms of greeting had been expended.
"...honor of our...not you..." angry semi intelligent voices sounded in Junebug's ear. Her face blanked to the neutral expression she wore when she was confused before she realised that Taya, still seated by the Wetumpkah had activated her implant and was transmitting the conversation to her.
"I like, really don't like where..." Junebug began as she tried to parse the archaic language but before she could finish the thought Wetumkah shot to his feet and struck one of the other shaman across the face with a full armed blow. The servant girl, apparently taking a moment away from mooning over Neil, screamed as another of the shaman drew a dagger of some sort of black volanic glass from his robes and lunged at Wetumpkah.
"Break! Taya get clear!" Junebug shouted, trusting her military grade radio to squash the girls more ornate but less powerful civilian model. The teir of the Zigguarat was descending into a chaos of flying crockery and flailing fists. Cries of horror and outrage gripped the crowd as half the men rushed towards the base of the pyramid and the other half tried to flee into the low structures of the village. Whether by luck or bad timing a score of warriors trotted from the treeline in full ceremonial war gear. The doubtless had intended to take part in the games but seeing their Shaman under attack rushed towards the villagers, flinging spears and screaming guttural war cries. Junebug hardly had time to pivot and duck behind her shield, covering Neil as well before the flight of missiles plunged down one slamming into her shield with a musical thunk.
"Go go go!" Junebug yelled, tossing aside her staff and plucking the spear from the shield. Both of their weapons were on the top tier with Taya and the stars alone knew whether the girl would think to grab them. Even as she spoke a disorganized group of native warriors with bone swords and rock clubs rushed from the huts to crash into the interlopers. This was going to get really messy.
@POOHEAD189
These so called 'Doctors' are the biggest dealers of drugs in the nation! What with their opioids and their benzos and who knows what else in their so called 'prescriptions'. Don't even get me started on their so called 'antibiotics' who is against biology I ask you? Charlatans playing god in my opinion.
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