z

Young Writers Society


Outpost 101 - Chapter 1



User avatar
103 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 4119
Reviews: 103
Tue Mar 04, 2008 9:08 pm
Dynamo says...



(This is a fanfiction I'm basing off a very funny series called Red vs. Blue at www.machinima.com Enjoy! Also, if 35 links to my other fanfiction series shows up over top of this post, just ignore them. They have nothing to do with this series.)


D’s War Journal

Entry 1:
After months of training in the army I have been sent to my first real mission. My new base is called Outpost 101 and is stationed in the center of a large box canyon on a ring world deep in space, which is weird because there are no signs of any life for thousands of miles. My comrades are a little… odd. First there’s Grif. He never does anything, he’s the laziest person I’ve ever seen. I sometimes wonder how he got into the army in the first place. Next, there’s Serge. He’s our sergeant, but his methods are a little unorthodox. I’m starting to get the feeling he doesn’t like Grif that much. In the event of an attack, pretty much all of our emergency plans involve using Grif as a “meat shield.” Next there’s Simmons. I wouldn’t say he and Grif are friends, but they do hang around together most of the time. Mostly they’re complaining about how much this war sucks. If I were to use one word to describe Simmons, it would be kiss-ass. Whenever he gets the chance to please Serge he takes it. Maybe he does it so he can move up in rank, or maybe he just doesn’t want Serge to slit his throat in his sleep like he tries to do with Grif every other night. Lastly, there’s Lopez. He’s the only mechanic we have. I can’t really say much about him because he never really talks to anyone, not even Serge.
About a week ago Serge’s second in command, Private Flowers, died from a massive heart attack in his sleep. Nobody knows how it happened, or even cares. Simmons was pretty happy about it because he got promoted to second in command. The point is, we’re down one man and command is sending us a new recruit. I hope he has a little more brains than the rest of these idiots.



“Hey, D. What are you writing?”

D closed his journal and placed it in one of his suit’s storage compartments. He turned to see Grif. Grif’s armour was bright orange. Basically everyone wore the same armour and helmets with visors too thick to see through. The only distinguishable features they had were the colours of their suits. D’s armour was silver.

“My war journal.”

“What, is that like a diary?” Grif asked. “That’s kinda gay.”

“It’s a WAR journal,” D repeated. “It a journal to record events on the WAR.”

“Call it what you want, but I still think it’s gay.”

“Did you need me for something?” D asked.

“Yeah, I did actually. Serge wants to show us something.”

“Fine, let’s go.” D and Grif left the base to see what Serge wanted. Simmons was already waiting for them. Serge was the one in red armour and Simmons was the one in maroon, which is kind of like a dark red.

“Alright,” Serge began. “Anyone want to guess why I gathered y’all here today?” Serge always had a thick southern accent. D guessed he was probably from Texas or some other lower state.

“Uhh… is it because the war’s over and you’re sending us home?” Grif asked.

“That’s exactly it, private,” Serge said in a very condescending voice. “War’s over, we won. Turns out you’re the big hero, and we’re gonna have a parade in yer honour. I get to drive the float, and Simmons here is in charge of confetti!” He said the last part with more heat.

“I’m no stranger to sarcasm, sir,” Grif said.

“God dammit, private! Shut yer mouth or else I’ll have Simmons here slit yer throat in your sleep!”

Simmons turned to Grif and said, “Oh, I’d do it, too.”

“I know you would, Simmons,” Serge said. “Good man.”

“You mind telling us why you dragged us out here, sir?” D asked.

“Today, we received the first part of our shipment from command.” He turned around and shouted to a nearby hill. “Lopez! Bring out the vehicle!”

The brown armoured mechanic drove a jeep into view. It was green plated and had a turret mounted on the back.

D: “Shotgun!”
Grif: “Shotgun! F**k!”

“May I introduce our new light reconnaissance vehicle. It has four-inch armour plating, buffer suspension, a mounted machine gunner position and total seating for three.” He turned back to the others. “Gentlemen, this is the M12 LRV! I like to call it the warthog.”

“Why a warthog, sir?” D asked.

“Because M12 LRV is too hard to say in conversation, numb nuts.”

“No, but, why warthog?” Grif asked. “I mean, it doesn’t really look like a pig.”

Serge faced Grif. “Say that again.”

“I think it looks more like a puma.”

“What in samhell is a puma?” Serge asked.

“Uhh, you mean like the shoe company?” Simmons asked.

“No, like a puma,” Grif said. “It’s a big cat. Like a lion.”

“…Yer makin that up.” Serge said.

“I’m telling you, it’s a real animal!”

Serge turned to Simmons and said, “Simmons, I want you to poison Grif’s next meal.”

“Yes, sir!”

Serge went to the front of the warthog. “Look, see these two tow hooks?” he asked, pointing to the hooks and spool of black rope attached to the front of the jeep. “They look like tusks. And what kind of animal has tusks?”

“…A walrus.” Grif answered.

“Didn’t just tell ya to stop makin up animals?” Serge said.

“It’s a real animal!” Grif insisted. “It’s a big sea lion with tusks and whiskers, it lives in the ocean.”

“Shut up!” Serge said. “Now unless anyone has anymore mythical creatures to suggest as a name for the new vehicle, we’re gonna stick with the warthog.” He turned back to Grif. “How about it, Grif?”

“No sir, no more suggestions.”

“Are you sure? How bout Bigfoot?”

“It’s okay,” Grif said.

“Unicorn?”

“No, really. I’m cool.”

“Sasquach?”

“Leprechaun?” Simmons suggested.

“Hey, he doesn’t need any help, man.”

“Hey Simmons? What’s the name of that Mexican lizard, eats all the goats?” Serge asked.

“Uh, that would be the chub cobra, sir,” Simmons answered.

“Hey, Grif. Chuba thingy, how bout that? I like it, got a ring to it.”

As Serge continued listing off names of mythical creatures, D reached into his suit’s storage compartment and started writing in his war journal. He change the first few words of the last sentence from, “I hope,” to, “I really, really, REALLY hope.”

“Private!”

D looked up. “Yes, Serge?”

“What’s that yer writing?” he asked.

“It’s his war journal, sir.” Grif said.

“What, ya mean like a diary?” Serge asked. “That’s kinda gay, son.”
Chicken <-- Egg <-- Rocket Powered Fist
Take that, science!
  





User avatar
2631 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 6235
Reviews: 2631
Sun Mar 09, 2008 5:45 pm
Rydia says...



I've heard about this series actually. Not much except that a friend of mine was categorising our group as the characters and said I'd have to be Simmons because there's no one else left. I can't say as I'm too pleased with that now I know a little more but anyway, on to the crit.

I think your sense of humour is good. The piece flowed nicely, I loved the journal entry at the beginning, the relationships between the characters were portrayed well and generally I thought it was very good. I'd normally suggest more description except that you don't really need it. I think it would start to draw the piece out too much. You had some good one liners and managed to include a repeated joke or two so high marks for humour.

And I know you said you wasn't bothered about grammar and such but here's a few small suggestions -

Grif’s armour was bright orange. Basically everyone wore the same armour and helmets with visors too thick to see through. [This is a touch unclear. Maybe 'Grif's armour was a bright orange and in the standard style with the helmet and the visor that was too thick to see through.']

“It's a journal to record events on the WAR.”

Serge was the one in red armour and Simmons was the one in maroon, which is kind of like a dark red. [There's no need to describe the colour. People generally know.]

“Didn’t I just tell ya to stop makin up animals?” Serge said.

______________________
Overall, good work, good sense of humour and nicely written.
Writing Gooder

~Previously KittyKatSparklesExplosion15~

The light shines brightest in the darkest places.
  





User avatar
164 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 177
Reviews: 164
Mon Mar 10, 2008 1:30 am
AyumiGosu17 says...



Serge was the one in red armour and Simmons was the one in maroon, which is kind of like a dark red.


I'm sorry, but your verbs aren't parallel in this sentence.

D: “Shotgun!”
Grif: “Shotgun! F**k!”


I'm sorry...I don't really get how this is part of the story. Is it a quote on the back of the jeep? Is it a flag? What is it?

Other than that, this is pretty good! Serge and Grif have me laughing the whole time!
"Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery." Timothy 4:14 KJV
  








I'll actually turning 100 soon
— Ari11