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Rob Cavanaugh Determined to live forever or die in the attempt  Moderators  Posts: 119 | Conflict Well, since the "Literature" (I think that was the name of the forum) is down for now, I'll submit this story under my forum. Charles can submit it later. (On a subnote, the story is complete, I just don't have the time to write it all right now - feel free to critique what I have so far) Abraham was born in a Military hospital just outside of Jerusalem. His father was an Israeli officer fighting to protect his people from the "evils of terror"; his mother, a Palestinian woman, had been praying for a son since their matrimony four years ago. He was born healthy, strong, and athletic - everything both parents wanted in a son. His mother had converted to Judaism a mere six months prior to their wedding to re-assure her husband of her loyalty. Abraham was raised Jewish; it wasn't until his eleventh birthday that he learned of his mothers' heritage. He did well in school, and upon graduation he continued his studies at a well-respected University where he majored in World History. He was discontent studying one major, so he minored in sociology, philosophy, and economics. He felt confident that upon graduation he would be fully prepared to meet the needs of many careers. He knew his parents were proud of his studies. They were in constant touch with him, sending letters of appraise, re-affirming their love for him. After four years, he received his degree, and was unsure of where to go next (in life). After much debate with his dorm roommates, he decided to follow his fathers' path and join the service to continue the tradition. With his more than impressive transcripts, he was quickly accepted into Officer School where he learned military tactics and tradition, Arabic, and many other disciplines. It was there that he became close friends with Joseph, a quick-witted young man that had recently moved to Israel. They grew to become close friends, sharing stories of childhood and fears of what lurked outside their guarded borders. Upon succesful completion of Officer School, they went their seperate ways to lead their men to their fullest potential. They kept in touch, meeting up at Discotheque's on their off time, musing at each others mistakes whilst getting heavily intoxicated. And that's it for now! Who knows when I will update more?! Muahaha. Perhaps if someone actually reads this and comments on it I'll feel more obliged to continue. ____________________  | ||||||
| Sunday, 27 February 2005 10:57AM |
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Rob Cavanaugh Determined to live forever or die in the attempt Moderators Posts: 119 | Conflict ...wow. No replies. Wow. No wonder the diablonet forums are fucking DEAD. Anywho, I'm going to continue the story to spite you fuckers. Joseph grew to become a strong leader. His men put their faith in his unnerving demeanor. He had learned at an early age to control his fear - growing up in New York City, he was often chastised for his Hebrew ancestry. His cold stare on the field had a reassurimg effect on his men, and they were highly effective because of it. He had run a successful campaing against the PLO, and had been handsomely rewarded for it. It wasn't until December of 1998 that his bulletproof fascade had been penetrated. He had been instructed to sweep through a clothing factory - it had been established to be a PLO hideout by intelligence. It had already been thoroughly destroyed by nearby tanks; it was his job to lead his men inside to establish a body count and to detain any survivors. After tossing in a stun grenade, they quickly charged in. As they passed the remains of several small children, a small feeling of doubt passed through his mind that perhaps the intel report was wrong. The brutally disfigured corpses no longer disturbed Joseph, he was merely concerned with the ramifications of such actions. It was the thoughtless slaughter of civilians that furthered the conflict between both nations. As he entered the main floor, he felt slightly relieved to see several automatic rifles collapsed on the floor. After ordering his men to confiscate the weapons, he sternly shouted in Arabic for thse that live to surrender themselves. As he kept his firearm snugly positioned in his shoulder, his men went from body to body to establish their demise. As his men quickly shouted back and forth the circumstances of the situation, a man in the center of the room quietly layed on his back coughing. The majority of the deceased here were struck by artillery fire from .50 caliber machine guns mounted on nearby tanks. It was a messy way to dispose of their enemy, but it was effective in the long run. The man quietly coughing in the middle had been unlucky to be struck in the abdomen, for he would be the last to die. As one of Joseph's men neared the man, he became quickly alert of his still-breathing enemy. Upon aiming his firearm directly at the chest of the slowly dying enemy, he alerted Joseph. As he approached the fallen rebel, a small crack appeared in his fascade. As stood next to the soldier that had found him, his gun fell to the floor as he began slowly sobbing. He grabbed the soldier by his coat and demanded an explanation between loud moaning. After the soldier only replied with a puzzled look, he threw him to the ground. At this point all of the men gave their sole attention to the drama unfolding in front of them. As his men neared the man coughing on the ground, they looked over his body to better understand the situation. On his bloodied jacket, the name Faruq Al-Hakim. Before they had a chance to question their leaders motives, Joseph fell to his knees bellowing with load moans. The dying enemy laying before them winked towards the heavens and took one last breath before closing his eyes for good. Well, a critique would be nice. Or anything. I don't care if you post "tl;dr", or if you post "it SUCKED". I just want to know that I'm not wasting my time trying to provide content for THE DIABLONET FORUMS. ____________________ | ||||||
| Friday, 4 March 2005 05:45PM |
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Charles Mercadal Administrator Posts: 93 | RE: Conflict Quotation from Rob Cavanaugh: ...wow. No replies. Wow. No wonder the diablonet forums are fucking DEAD. Anywho, I'm going to continue the story to spite you fuckers. I was in Seattle all of last week. Also: When you posted the earliest part of the story, I was still working on fixing what was broken w/the Diablonet. I'll do what I can with the forums. | ||||||
| Monday, 7 March 2005 09:35AM |
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[ Exec time: 0.913 | Files queried: 26 | Dirs queried: 201 | File writes: 1 ]