This war of mine.

[Big Jack McBastard]

Day 36 and 8th time *seems* to be the charm. I've now got the facilities to turn all that ill-gotten old and sickly people's sugar into booze, then into meths and then into bandages which the guy at the garage will give me his balls for. Components seem to be free or hold little to no value to him so you can always fill the rest of the trading screen with them once you've triggered his 'acceptable deal' line, drop the excess on the floor and rinse and repeat with any spare meds you have.

Before this cosy little set-up emerged around day 30 we were getting near to trouble with food shortages again (traps and greenhouse can be grindingly slow) so I tooled (and armoured) up the most useless of our crew Emilia and sent her to earn her keep at the Semi-Detached House and Construction Yard where, she astonishingly pulled two back-to-back flawless victories out of her sickly ass two nights running.

Shotgun toting Bozena, in the SD House was stabbed and snagged with a pistol, apparently she(?) is the only one with a weapon there so the other 2 brutal killings were... perhaps technically 'unnecessary' but the red mist took Emilia over, poor lass had been laid up in bed for a week with a nasty case of slightly-scratched-by-a-raider arm.

She needed a bit catharsis and besides a bottle of moonshine made all the bad murder demons go away and next night Killer-E was back up for a hungover Drunken Master/Old Boy-style assault on the Construction Yard which saw her heedlessly peg it straight up to the top of the structure shotgunning the assault rifle support lad up his back through a hole in the floor as he tried to climb a ladder on the floor above, then a perfectly timed knife in the armpit of the sniper and finally a round of buckshot in his bean. The girl has chops, she's cold blooded yo. I couldn't fucking believe it, I was absolutely sure she'd die when I sent her out the second time, she brought home enough pills, food and bandages to cure herself and restock our larder very nicely in time for the veg harvest so the food problem is sorted for the foreseeable (5-ish days) unless we get raided but that's tailing off a little and I don't think they can nick prepared food anyway so that's handy.

Everyone is a goddamn hero this round bar Marin whose days are spent bombing up and down stairs making and replacing filters and cooking everyone's rat and leek based tea, he's a hero in his own way bless 'im.

We've had a couple of days where everyone has stayed in on the night. There's 10 tins of meat, 8 dinners cooked on the stove and another 6 in the fridge and everyone is fed, there's 30 high quality tabs, 3 books, 6 bottles of booze, everyone is ok... The radio says the peackeepers are days away.

<tum tee tum>

[Big Jack McBastard]

Hah 36 Days and the war is over! Get in there, Peacekeepers all up in our grills.

Four merely moderately mentally scarred winners marching forth from their grim hovel into wonderful futures full of... what turns out to be mostly depression, because they either don't find their families, or find their broken fragments and get bummed out by that.

All except for Marin who lured a young boy back into his shop with a toy one day and he was quite happy about that. The sick fuck.

Good times, I can't play this anymore now though, the seven previous parallel universes I presided over were enough to teach me some valuable lessons.

1. The bungalows nearby are fucked if war breaks out so I might as well rob them all straight away, or on consecutive nights.

2. I'd prey upon warring factions of soldiers equally rather than favour either side, this might make my life temporarily easier but doubtless some questions about where I got all these shotguns and disparate army uniforms might crop up once it's all over, so I best keep my head down.

3. In a desperate enough time I'd kill a random person for their food, not really arsed, in fact I'd kill a few people for all their food all at once just so I didn't have to go out killing three times in a week.

4. One way or another I'm visiting the hospital for the cool drugs, sharpish.

5. If, for whatever reason, you have less than 10 inventory slots you're no use to me, you're not coming in and (unless you're clever) 10 is pushing it frankly.

[mook]

you've beaten it then jack lad?

time to get on M&B warband then, and the napoleonic multiplayer dlc...


you'd love this...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtAuIPkORTY