What's Wesker (I think) doing in 1861-65? O.O
And was that a Gundam!?!?!
Either way it's sweet.
And was that a Gundam!?!?!
Either way it's sweet.
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Well, CSA and USA could have merged again before the game begun. 
They would have eventually become one nation again, CSA could not have stood alone with a industrial power horse north of it who has the same language.
The civil war could have been a temporary period where South defended her claims to hold slavery, which would have anyways been abolished some years later, since a state with a majority slave population could not survived...
Unless we look at the Drakas....
They would have eventually become one nation again, CSA could not have stood alone with a industrial power horse north of it who has the same language.
The civil war could have been a temporary period where South defended her claims to hold slavery, which would have anyways been abolished some years later, since a state with a majority slave population could not survived...
Unless we look at the Drakas....
Well, it's fun using Wesker's pic and basing him on someone.
I'll say I used pics of not one but three Gundams.
But I'll only be using their head design since they don't transform into Rafales. Well, CSA and USA could have merged again before the game begun.
They would have eventually become one nation again, CSA could not have stood alone with a industrial power horse north of it who has the same language.
The civil war could have been a temporary period where South defended her claims to hold slavery, which would have anyways been abolished some years later, since a state with a majority slave population could not survived...
Unless we look at the Drakas....
I didn't say anything about what you said is wrong, Enewald. About the Drakas, I don't really believe they can become what they had become in Turtledove.
Not that convincing to me, BritishImperial, especially about Draka.
o...
Ok, I updated Choice I of the vote a bit in the last part of it. (Silly me, I should have added it earlier.) To answer some questions, yes, there will be duels between SAS members and Legionnaires each in their individual "tactical superweapon" in the AAR of Choice I.
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Not that convincing to me, BritishImperial, especially about Draka.
The Draka Books were written by S. M. Stirling.
It may seem like you want to write the first choice more? But if that isn't the case don't forget about it, it sort of had some reminder of Crysis 2.
Ooops, I got mixed up. :wacko:
Not really, since it is actually easier for me to write the Civil War one first. I put two choices up so that you people can have a say in matters.
Never mind. Whilst much in Turtledoves books is fundamentally wrong to an Anglophile like myself ( The British loosing World War 2? The US allied with ze Germans and occupiing Canada? London destroyed by a German Nuke? ) it's much better than the Draka Series where the author id giving the entire damn planet to a bunch of genocidal madmen.
Here's some even more teasers for Choice I in response to your comment.
...
The pilot of the Rafale looked around him. The city of London was full of life... millions of souls living in a single place...
The Rafale's "arms" were then lifted into firing position, and their payload was unleashed... Two ASMP-NG missiles, each carrying a nuclear warhead equivalent to 1Mt of TNT, went straight for the Palace of Westminster.
(Mwahahahaha!! Now that's two nukes
)
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You could also include someone who has travelled with some weird machine from Draka universe to the midst of American civil war, and the French legionaries are sent to find him. Or something.
Or just start a new game with France in the draka mod, and try to beat them using the Legionaries.
Or just start a new game with France in the draka mod, and try to beat them using the Legionaries.
You could also include someone who has travelled with some weird machine from Draka universe to the midst of American civil war, and the French legionaries are sent to find him. Or something.
Or just start a new game with France in the draka mod, and try to beat them using the Legionaries.
Somebody that's got to do with time traveling is actually for the AAR of Choice I. Ooops... I'm giving too much spoilers.
o
Here's some even more teasers for Choice I in response to your comment.
I'm toying with writing a crossover between either our own or my AARs Universe with that world.... Considering that according to the Author, Hitler serves as an NCO and Guderians Adjutant....
Well, well, can't wait to see.
Hrm. I would probably post it on fanfiction.net... It doesn't really fit here. Anyway, if it were to be based on our universe, it would be a group of Officers from the German, British and American Armies, if in my AARs universe probably Ian and Felix.
I'd actually like to use people from Russia, Germany, Italy, and of course France. Perhaps even some British so that there will be some people that will just get taunted all the time.
My own preferences anyway.
I'd actually like to use people from Russia, Germany, Italy, and of course France. Perhaps even some British so that there will be some people that will just get taunted all the time.
Only one possible answer to this.
Ummm, trek, I already posted the link for the same video on this thread, post 444 I think... But it's still good to bring it up again.
I actually like this scene the best: click me
trek, next time could you please post a little {spoiler ahead} before you divulge everything? i'm kind of slowly working my way through turtledove and havent got that far i know i made it sound like i'd read 'em all. well i guess i have the nuking of london to look forward to, anyway
anyway your point was a good one, the draka universe sounds rather ridiculous but i found the ww1 ones to be believable enough, anyway.
i know i made it sound like i'd read 'em all. well i guess i have the nuking of london to look forward to, anyway anyway your point was a good one, the draka universe sounds rather ridiculous but i found the ww1 ones to be believable enough, anyway.
Ok, folks, so I think I'll stop the voting right now since nobody is voting anymore for some time. Overwhelming votes for choice II, so you'll be seeing a new thread in Vicky in around a week later. I still have one last final to get rid off. You people can just as well start suggesting some characters you'll want for the AAR of choice II.
You people can just as well start suggesting some characters you'll want for the AAR of choice II.
Phew... back from the dead. Sorry folks I wasn't able to post updates I'd love to. However, I'm sure all of you would understand that unemployment causes plenty of bitterness in one's life. Therefore a lot of writing time I planned to have would have to be diverted into job-finding.
Anyways, here's the update. Tomorrow I shall start a new thread in Vicky.
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Anyways, here's the update. Tomorrow I shall start a new thread in Vicky.
...
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Days later, Feburary 1900
“How are you feeling, Monsieur Churchill?” asked Rommel.
“Absolutely fine, if not utterly bored,” replied Churchill.
The fall Churchill had during the pursuit by the Zulus had caused him to sprain his ankle, and he was sitting on his seat on a wagon full of supplies. Rommel and the others had spent some time in Pretoria gathering supplies, and were on their way to the refugee camps to send the supplies to those in need.
“We’ll be arriving at our destination very soon, Mr. Churchill,” said Mata Hari.
Not long after Mata Hari finished her words, the trio arrived at a large cleared out site. A site that seemed so distant away from the world they are familiary with.
“Where are we?” asked Rommel quietly.
“The camps… the refugee camps,” replied Mata Hari.
Stretched across their eyes, what was called “the refugee camps” was a vast collection of small shabby tents and shelters. A few British soldiers were around checking around with rifles hosited around their shoulders. Other then that, there were almost no one on the narrow walkways between the lines of tents and shelters, except some workers carrying what appeared to be bodies away.
“The size of the camps have swollen by so much since last trime I came… we should hurry up and unload the supplies. I shall be back later after I inform the people here about our arrival.” said Mata Hari. She then walked towards a small temporary command post.
Rommel and Churchill waited beside their wagon and looked around. The smell that was around in the air was already awful. However, the eyes peeking out from the tents and shelters were more piercing than bullets from a Mauser.
“Please! Please, help my baby!”
Rommel and Churchill turned and look towards the source of the sound. A skinny woman was holding what appeared to be her baby, wrapped around in a filthy piece of cloth just like the rags clothing her. The woman appeared to be pleading one of the soldiers for help.
“Jerry! We need you over here! This body needed to be dispose of right now.” The soldier, whose name seemed to be Jerry, was being called by fellow soldiers some distance away.
“Please. Help my baby. Please!” The woman was holding onto Jerry’s trousers kneeling beside him, and begged again repeatedly.
“Go f*** yourself! Can’t you see I don’t have the time to care for you.”
“Please! Please help! Aaaahhhaaarrrgghhh!!!” The woman screamed in pain as she was brushed aside by Jerry. Her “baby” in her arms fell out of her arms and dropped onto the dirt. When its head rolled over to Rommel and Churchill’s view, what revealed was a small rotten face. The eye sockets were already empty. The “baby” was nothing more than a small rotting corpse spreading a most vile smell of death.
“F***! What the bloody hell! Give me that! It needs to be disposed of right now!” Jerry then snatched the small body from the ground and began to walk away with a disgusted look on his face. The woman, noticing her arms were empty, desperately looked around for her baby before she saw Jerry with her baby’s corpse.
“My baby! Give my baby back!” she cried almost hysterically.
“F*** off. Can’t you see it’s already dead? You’re just wasting my bloody f***ing time over here.” Jerry shoved the woman away one final time before he left, leaving the woman on the ground sobbing and moaning.
“What is the bloody problem with here…” muttered Churchill astonished.
“The problem with here is, there are simply just too many of them here for whatever reasons. There’s just simply not enough everything for everyone,” said Mata Hari from behind. “Let’s hurry up and unload the supplies so as to save people from that kind of a fate.”
“Perhaps this is strange to ask, but what is your reasons for bringing in the supplies and caring for them, Mata Hari?”
“I cannot give you a precise answer. Perhaps I simply want to spread out as much kindness as I can to those in need.”
“Kindness… can they all be saved by mere kindness?”
Rommel looked at the blazing sun above him and tried to brush away the scent of death away from him as he began to help unload the supplies. The scent of death that he was all too familiar with.
The skinny woman was back in the tent she shared with other women licking her wound. Remembering a few nights before a man dressed in black had visited her.
“What is that?” the woman asked in the darkness, holding tight onto her still alive baby.
“Oh, well, something you can use for vengeance. You don’t like how they put you in here and took everything away from you, right?”
The man in black then handed her a syringe containing some unknown substance, and smiled widely and almost gleefully at her. A smiled with shining teeth that seemed so bright in the darkness.
The woman, coming back from her memories, look at the syringe she was given again. Then she injected herself with the syringe on the neck without a second thought.
“Ha ha ha that was a good one.”
“Is it, ehh? I can tell you another good old joke of mine,” said Jerry.
It was nighttime already, and inside a small pub some distance away from the filthy tents, Jerry had some of his fellow soldiers accompanying him. They each had a glass of beer in hand to keep them merry.
“… So I was saying…” continued Jerry before one of his friends interrupted him.
“Hey Jerry! Who’s that skinny little woman standing over there?” The friend that interrupted Jerry pointed at the opened door of the pub. It was the skinny woman who appeared with her dead baby earlier in the day.
“How’d you get in here? Anyways, what do you want now, ehh?” asked Jerry jokingly, and tooked another sip from his glass of beer.
The woman held her head low, and her long hair covered her ghostlike face. She stumbled a bit and began to walked slowly towards Jerry and his friends while seemingly every single step was a struggle to her. However, she still managed to lift her head up slowly and opened her mouth.
“Give me… my baby… my baby… back!!!”
The woman opened her mouth wide, and something unimaginable erupted out of her mouth. It was something that somewhat resembled a dark-colored flower in shape, however with the addition of razor-sharp fangs protruding out of the “pedals”. The woman eyes were then glowing red and met with Jerry’s astonished eyes. She then charged forward to her shocked and mortified “prey”.
(Ok, she either needs a really good dentist or she'll need to get some plastic surgery done)
Jerry looked at what confronted him with horror, and managed to mutter out three words before Death came to him.
“Holy Jesus Christ.”
(Goodbye Jerry.)
“How are you feeling, Monsieur Churchill?” asked Rommel.
“Absolutely fine, if not utterly bored,” replied Churchill.
The fall Churchill had during the pursuit by the Zulus had caused him to sprain his ankle, and he was sitting on his seat on a wagon full of supplies. Rommel and the others had spent some time in Pretoria gathering supplies, and were on their way to the refugee camps to send the supplies to those in need.
“We’ll be arriving at our destination very soon, Mr. Churchill,” said Mata Hari.
Not long after Mata Hari finished her words, the trio arrived at a large cleared out site. A site that seemed so distant away from the world they are familiary with.
“Where are we?” asked Rommel quietly.
“The camps… the refugee camps,” replied Mata Hari.
Stretched across their eyes, what was called “the refugee camps” was a vast collection of small shabby tents and shelters. A few British soldiers were around checking around with rifles hosited around their shoulders. Other then that, there were almost no one on the narrow walkways between the lines of tents and shelters, except some workers carrying what appeared to be bodies away.
“The size of the camps have swollen by so much since last trime I came… we should hurry up and unload the supplies. I shall be back later after I inform the people here about our arrival.” said Mata Hari. She then walked towards a small temporary command post.
Rommel and Churchill waited beside their wagon and looked around. The smell that was around in the air was already awful. However, the eyes peeking out from the tents and shelters were more piercing than bullets from a Mauser.
“Please! Please, help my baby!”
Rommel and Churchill turned and look towards the source of the sound. A skinny woman was holding what appeared to be her baby, wrapped around in a filthy piece of cloth just like the rags clothing her. The woman appeared to be pleading one of the soldiers for help.
“Jerry! We need you over here! This body needed to be dispose of right now.” The soldier, whose name seemed to be Jerry, was being called by fellow soldiers some distance away.
“Please. Help my baby. Please!” The woman was holding onto Jerry’s trousers kneeling beside him, and begged again repeatedly.
“Go f*** yourself! Can’t you see I don’t have the time to care for you.”
“Please! Please help! Aaaahhhaaarrrgghhh!!!” The woman screamed in pain as she was brushed aside by Jerry. Her “baby” in her arms fell out of her arms and dropped onto the dirt. When its head rolled over to Rommel and Churchill’s view, what revealed was a small rotten face. The eye sockets were already empty. The “baby” was nothing more than a small rotting corpse spreading a most vile smell of death.
“F***! What the bloody hell! Give me that! It needs to be disposed of right now!” Jerry then snatched the small body from the ground and began to walk away with a disgusted look on his face. The woman, noticing her arms were empty, desperately looked around for her baby before she saw Jerry with her baby’s corpse.
“My baby! Give my baby back!” she cried almost hysterically.
“F*** off. Can’t you see it’s already dead? You’re just wasting my bloody f***ing time over here.” Jerry shoved the woman away one final time before he left, leaving the woman on the ground sobbing and moaning.
“What is the bloody problem with here…” muttered Churchill astonished.
“The problem with here is, there are simply just too many of them here for whatever reasons. There’s just simply not enough everything for everyone,” said Mata Hari from behind. “Let’s hurry up and unload the supplies so as to save people from that kind of a fate.”
“Perhaps this is strange to ask, but what is your reasons for bringing in the supplies and caring for them, Mata Hari?”
“I cannot give you a precise answer. Perhaps I simply want to spread out as much kindness as I can to those in need.”
“Kindness… can they all be saved by mere kindness?”
Rommel looked at the blazing sun above him and tried to brush away the scent of death away from him as he began to help unload the supplies. The scent of death that he was all too familiar with.
…
The skinny woman was back in the tent she shared with other women licking her wound. Remembering a few nights before a man dressed in black had visited her.
“What is that?” the woman asked in the darkness, holding tight onto her still alive baby.
“Oh, well, something you can use for vengeance. You don’t like how they put you in here and took everything away from you, right?”
The man in black then handed her a syringe containing some unknown substance, and smiled widely and almost gleefully at her. A smiled with shining teeth that seemed so bright in the darkness.
The woman, coming back from her memories, look at the syringe she was given again. Then she injected herself with the syringe on the neck without a second thought.
…
“Ha ha ha that was a good one.”
“Is it, ehh? I can tell you another good old joke of mine,” said Jerry.
It was nighttime already, and inside a small pub some distance away from the filthy tents, Jerry had some of his fellow soldiers accompanying him. They each had a glass of beer in hand to keep them merry.
“… So I was saying…” continued Jerry before one of his friends interrupted him.
“Hey Jerry! Who’s that skinny little woman standing over there?” The friend that interrupted Jerry pointed at the opened door of the pub. It was the skinny woman who appeared with her dead baby earlier in the day.
“How’d you get in here? Anyways, what do you want now, ehh?” asked Jerry jokingly, and tooked another sip from his glass of beer.
The woman held her head low, and her long hair covered her ghostlike face. She stumbled a bit and began to walked slowly towards Jerry and his friends while seemingly every single step was a struggle to her. However, she still managed to lift her head up slowly and opened her mouth.
“Give me… my baby… my baby… back!!!”
The woman opened her mouth wide, and something unimaginable erupted out of her mouth. It was something that somewhat resembled a dark-colored flower in shape, however with the addition of razor-sharp fangs protruding out of the “pedals”. The woman eyes were then glowing red and met with Jerry’s astonished eyes. She then charged forward to her shocked and mortified “prey”.
(Ok, she either needs a really good dentist or she'll need to get some plastic surgery done)
Jerry looked at what confronted him with horror, and managed to mutter out three words before Death came to him.
“Holy Jesus Christ.”
(Goodbye Jerry.)