serious ape

The Raider’s Wife: Chapter 4

The Vikings are sailing for home, and Hvitserk and his wife have a little chat while he’s rowing.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11491590/chapters/26027046


You were unaccustomed to the rolling of the ship as it rode the waves, but at least there was nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. Hvitserk, rubbing circles between your shoulders as you retched into the ocean, assured you that in a few days you wouldn’t get sick anymore. He’d pulled you onto his lap and kissed your hair, but now he was taking a turn at the oars.

You leaned against the side of the ship near him. He’d removed his tunic in the heat, and sweat ran in rivulets down his smooth, pale skin. You appreciated watching him row; the bulge and flex of his upper arms, the concentration on his handsome face. Suddenly wondering something, you pushed yourself to your unsteady feet and stumbled graceless around the rowing bench, ignoring Hvitserk’s chuckles as he watched your lack of sea legs. You practically moaned aloud at the sight of Hvitserk’s broad back, glinting with sweat, the muscles rippling with his exertion.

“I can gain an appreciation for your work,” you remarked, mouth suddenly dry.

Hvitserk looked over his shoulder at you, waggling his eyebrows. “I’ll make a Viking out of you yet, konan min,” he promised. The use of the endearment sent a rush of heat between your legs. He must have seen it in your eyes; his expression went from one of playfulness to smoldering heat. “Come sit beside me.” His voice was husky now, raising goosebumps on your arms as it washed over you like a warm wave. You obeyed without hesitation.

The smell of his sweat reached your nostrils, part woodsmoke and leather, part hard-working man. You’d woken up this morning in linen sheets that smelled like him, to a gentle mouth kissing your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose. When he’d seen you were awake, he settled himself slowly onto your body as he pressed his lips to yours. What followed next was a far cry from the way he’d loved you last night, slower and sweeter, but no less satisfying for all that. He’d taken care to be gentle this time, conscious of the ache he’d left between your thighs.

Hvitserk’s voice, barely above a growl in your ear, brought you back to the present, to your sweating on husband and the sea-spray misting on your skin. “I’ll make you a Viking when I take you right on this ship beneath the stars, when my thrusts are in the same rhythm as the waves.” He smiled, wolfish and hungry, seeing the flush rise on your cheeks. “I want to devour you over and over, every night and every morning. I woke up this morning just as hungry for you as I was last night. I feel like a starving man, and you’re the only thing that satisfies my hunger.”

You leaned in close to whisper in his ear, “Were there not so many people around, I’d ask you to devour me now.” You dropped your voice even lower, suddenly worried someone else might hear your sinful desires. “I can still feel your fingers on my skin, lighting fires in my blood.” Surely your husband was the devil himself, tempting you to such irresistible sin. You thought you would follow Hvitserk into the gates of hell. Even the devil had been an angel once, and you were not so strong as an archangel.

“Do you still ache? I thought taking you this morning might ease it a little,” he told you, smiling sweetly.

You blushed. “It does. But I like it. It reminds me of last night.” A flush was beginning to creep up his neck, and you suspected it had more to do with your words than his rowing.

“You’re making me want to…. What did you call what we did last night?”

“Coupling?”

“No, the other word.”

“Sin?”

“Yes. I want to sin with you right now,” he moaned. He jerked his chin sharply down toward his lap.

You eyes widened at the bulge clearly visible in his trousers, and you found yourself suddenly breathless as you imagined the way it would feel sliding into you. “Me, too.”

“Tell me what you are thinking,” Hvitserk demanded.

You gulped, wondering how to tell it to him. “I’m thinking about that…. About you…. Your hands on my—my breasts. About kissing you, and how soft your lips are. How it felt to have your tongue in places I never imagined a tongue being.” He chuckled at that, warm green eyes encouraging you. “And I’m wondering something.”

“What’s that, konan min?”

“If my mouth can pleasure you the same way yours can pleasure me.” He moaned loudly, unable to contain himself at the mere thought of it.

“Hey! Not now!” Bjorn scolded sharply, coming up behind you to slap Hvitserk upside the head. “Gods brother, are you so insatiable you can’t wait until after dark?” He strode off, muttering to darkly to himself in that harsh language of theirs.

“Tonight, konan min, we will find out,” he promised, green eyes surveying you with open hunger. You longed to be his feast again. The day stretched out before you, and never before had you hated the warm late-morning sun so much. Bjorn barked a few more harsh words in your direction and Hvitserk mocked him, aping a serious face. “If we do not talk about something else, we will be in trouble but I can think of nothing but the taste of you.”

“Tell me about where we’re going,” you suggested, nerves dancing in your stomach. You hadn’t given too much thought to it,with the rushed wedding preparations and then the excitement of the wedding itself.

“It is called Kattegat, and it’s much colder than your home. The seas are rougher, too, and the winters long. They are good for drinking and telling stories around a fire with family. I will teach you our language, too, and about our gods, so you can understand. There are mountains and woods. My brothers and I have a cabin in the woods that we go sometimes to get away from the town. It has grown so much recently, sometimes it is nice to be with just ourselves. I can teach you to shoot a bow, if you like, and we can hunt with my brothers.”

“I’ve never shot a bow before,” you admitted. “Women here do not do such things.”

“It’s different in Kattegat. My mother rules as the queen, since my father Ragnar left.” He tilted his head, sheepish. “Mother will be surprised I have taken a wife, but she is kind and wise. And I have four brothers—you met Bjorn already, his mother’s name is Lagertha. She’s a great shieldmaiden. My mother, Aslaug, has four sons. First Ubbe, then me, next Sigurd, and Ivar is the youngest. Best to stay away from Ivar. He is almost always angry.” Hvitserk’s voice was resigned.

“You will like everyone else though, I think. And you will not be stuck indoors all day if you do not want to be. You can hunt with me and my brothers, or train to fight with us. You can work with the women in the hall, weaving and sewing, or you can find whatever you like to occupy your time. It will be your decision how to spend your days.” He paused, glancing at you as he rowed. “I hope you will spend some time with my mother. She is a very wise woman and can teach you a lot about my people and Kattegat. She is very respected.”

You nodded, grinning at him, before playfully lapping up a river of sweat flowing down his flexing bicep. “I cannot wait to reach Kattegat.”

He paused in his rowing to gently nip the side of your neck, drawing a gasp from you. Hvitserk resumed the rowing as if he’d never broken his rhythm. “And I cannot wait to take you there.”

              has to be when it’s coming from astronerd.        yet slipping the nickname equivalent to endearment slaughters the impersonal from a statement that agrees they are impersonal for mutual feelings. that the conclusion they are a couple is weird. when it’s no more than a hubris detected by the reader before the character’s climatic downfall. it’s caitlyn slipping honey on the tip of her tongue when she accepts an undesired task; it’s liz slipping astronerd to admit a special bond.

      but she’s drunk. as evident in her slouched shoulders settling in the couch’s cushion, ankles crossed with feet on the coffee table, fluid wrist in the air as she speaks, and the way she tilts her head while never taking eye contact during his spill.  though eyes watch his every expression, the blurs lines of his smile distort the hidden tension, or teeth injuring himself before his sloppy smile that even grace a grin on liz’s lips for a blimp upon her face.

      she’s drunk, but she’s never out of control when it comes to her facade. and, no matter how close he’s seen the warmth, she pushes him away like the moon revolving further from the earth. a conscious thought, the way eyes find refuge to her feet on the coffee table, despite an assault of words that could only come out at alcohol’s reigns. an excuse (a clutch) reflecting the week before she ditched her own birthday party.

        cat seen me back from one night stands & only assumes you.        there’s one of her famous exaggerated sighs, rotating a wrist 180 from its original position.        i don’t get it. 


@cyniceds   (oh boy)

ninjaxenomorph  asked:

For a sci-fi webcomic, I've been working on the specs of a class of power-armor clad enforcers (called Jotunns) and their weaponry; they have a specific handgun they use. For ammunition I was thinking of two types they carry: 12.7mm hollowpoint for soft targets and shorter range, and tungsten-tipped sabot rounds as 'high-power' rounds, for anti-armor/anti-giant-mutant and long-range use. Is this just me going way off the mark for firepower, or could this be justified for a man-scale tank?

So, 12.7mm is a real round (well, several different rounds), and it makes this entire question a little strange. We talked about the idiosyncrasies of firearms a couple weeks ago, and I had to check, but 12.7mm did come up as an example. 12.7mm is half an inch, so .50. Occasionally, you’ll see .50 BMG listed as 12.7x99mm instead of the imperial caliber.

I’ve seen 12.7 come up as a distinct round in, basically, two places. There’s a 12.7x108mm Chinese AM round, which is their answer to the .50 BMG, and, Fallout: New Vegas.

Ironically, the reason New Vegas calls it a 12.7mm is actually in the above paragraph. The game includes an Anti Materiel rifle patterned off the Barret which fires .50 BMG rounds. Because of how New Vegas formats ammunition names, this creates an immediate problem. There’s two different .50 rounds. The BMG and the AE. The AE is a handgun round (12.7x33mm), the BMG rifle round (again, 12.7x99mm). So, if you include a .50 pistol, and a .50 rifle, people who aren’t very firearms savvy are going to wonder why they don’t share ammunition. “I mean, it’s all .50, right?”

What Obsidian (I think this was specifically J.E. Sawyer’s call, but I’m not completely certain) chose to do was label one as 12.7mm, and the other one .50. Since the Barret has slightly more name recognition it got to keep the imperial name, and the pistol got the metric.

The other thing weighing on giving the pistol the metric name was, it’s a returning design from the first two Fallout games. They had something called a 14mm pistol (externally based on a SIG sporting pistol, if I’m remembering correctly), which was an upgrade from the .44 Desert Eagle, in game terms.

All of that said? .50AE isn’t a great round, and, while I could be wrong, I don’t see it having a real future. It fits with Fallout because it’s chromed steel excess meshes well with 1950s consumer design.

Hell, the Desert Eagle is an excellent example of that era’s design aesthetics. Big, heavy, more steel and chrome than is practical. It’s a four pound pistol. Even though it’s Israeli and didn’t actually enter production until the 1980s, it’s an excellent flash card for that era of Americana.

So, here’s the hard part. For someone who’s not wearing a powered exosuit, a .50 is an annoying round to control. In an exosuit, and against the kind of targets where you’d really need that kind of firepower, I’m inclined to think it would be kind of anemic. Why use a .50 round, when you could simply have a standardized 19mm or 25.4mm high explosive round? With varying payloads depending on what you’re shooting. Sure, no normal human could use it, but if you’re in powered armor, that’s not an issue.

A sabot round is, basically, a dart loaded into a shotgun shell. Now, that’s not completely accurate, but if you’re dead set on using one. I’d recommend just using solid darts, rather than having a distinct tip. For serious AP capability in a high power rifle, I’d actually be more inclined to point at man portable gauss weapons, rather than wasting space on a sabot.

All of this is going to be predicated on the technology your characters have access to. So, it’s possible your setting just doesn’t have portable gauss weapons. Also, feel free to ignore the bolter calibers I listed back up there. That is a Warhammer 40k reference. But, for ways to load out a suit of powered armor, 40k is a fantastic thing to look at.

Some quick primers for powered armor:

Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein is probably the patient zero of SciFi space marines in powered armor. I deeply dislike the politics that Heinlein was advocating, but the book is worth reading. I’m much more partial to the film, but that’s a brutal takedown of the military jingoism that Heinlein was celebrating.

Armor by John Steakley is written as a rebuttal to Starship Troopers. I’m inclined to say it’s actually a better book, but that’s my bias seeping in. Either way, Steakley does some good worldbuilding.

If you haven’t, Warhammer 40k’s Space Marines are something you really should be looking at. You can check the Lexicanum to get a quick overview, and some basic statistical data; it will also work as a good quick litmus test to tell if the setting’s zealotry dialed to 11 and played for laughs is something you can actually get into and enjoy. For specific recommendations, first impulse here is to actually point at the THQ games. The generically titled Space Marine is a surprisingly good third person action title. Dawn of War was my first real introduction to the setting, and Dawn of War 2 specifically isn’t a bad starting point.

Generally speaking, when you’re looking at characters in powered armor, it can trace it’s lineage back through one of these sources. So it’s probably worth looking at them, if you’re working with this sub-genre.

-Starke

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VERY SERIOUS FULL AP AMUMU MONTAGE

April 12 // 2:32 p.m.

It is such a beautiful day out soooo I am taking this opportunity to do some studying outside! Today I decided to start doing some serious AP prep (since I probably should’ve been doing that a bit sooner). I have four exams in less than a month!
Tips for anyone taking AP exams or a set of standardized tests: keep all your work together. It’ll make studying for the actual exams a lot easier. I bought a 5-subject notebook for that purpose today, and I also bought a smaller notebook to keep track of my tasks and goals for exams/college applications.