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John Ringo (I'll be your huckleberry) playing in Larry Correia's MHI universe

Discussion in 'Books & Literature' started by VMS, Mar 26, 2015.

  1. VMS

    VMS Victim of high standards and low personal skills.

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    So, Ringo has written a story in the MHI universe set in the 80s and 90s. Correia still has to give permission, especially since Ringo's story actually uses some of Correia's characters. But Ringo posted this prologue on Facebook:
    It's gonna be lots of fun. The MHI universe is just ripe for guns 'n trouble. Personally, I'd like to see Tom Kratman take a shot. He's advocated crucifying terrorists: how about crucifying vampires? Throw 'em up on a cross, and the vamps will be burned by it...
     
  2. tattered

    tattered Uber-Aryan
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  3. tattered

    tattered Uber-Aryan
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  4. BIV

    BIV I'm Biv Dick Black, the Over Poster.

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    Seems I should check out that series. Could be fun.

    And Ringo rules.
     
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  5. VMS

    VMS Victim of high standards and low personal skills.

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    Correia's books have all been "THE WORLD WILL SOON END!!!!" monster fights. Ringo's doing background work (hence the 80s and 90s setting) and the more run-of-the-mill monsters. Like, you know, giant spiders swarming out of the sewers. No big deal compared to Elder Gods bringing their reality over into our universe...

    Lots of guns. Lots of fun. Some terrible puns (like an online troll who is, well, a troll). It's pure pulp bliss. Correia writes fun stuff.
     
  6. VMS

    VMS Victim of high standards and low personal skills.

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    Madame Courtney's office was in Bayou St. John. She had various voodoo items hanging in the window but the sign plainly said 'Real Estate'.
    There was more hoodoo in the front room which had a reception desk. A pretty young black woman led me into the back through, yes, a bead curtain to meet with Madame Courtney.
    Madame Courtney was in her fifties wearing a flowing native African dress, bright crimson shawl and a colorful rag wrapped on her head. She was about covered in various houdoun charms and amulets. The dimly lit office featured only a table covered in black cloth.
    "Sit Hunter," the real estate agent said. "Sit, sit." She pronounced it 'Seat'.
    I sat at the table wondering where the crystal ball was.
    "You need a home," she said, her arms wide, as if calling the loas for guidance.
    I forebore to say that's generally why people come to a real estate office.
    "You," she said, drawing it out. "You who have never known a true home. You, speaker to the saints! You, with the mission!" Meeeeeshuuuun! She was leaning back with her arms wide and her head thrown back, her voice rising. "You, player of women! Word smith! Gifted in tongues!" She was shouting and shaking. "A home for the warrior not a saint! I call upon the loas! Find this warrior a hoooome!"
    She calmed down, panting, and wearily pulled out a deck of tarot cards.
    "We shall read your path," she murmured. She drew the ///get someone who knows tarot///.
    "Okay," I said when she was done. She hadn't asked me about location, style, anything. As far as I knew she was just reading my aura. I knew some houdoun worked. I was a monster hunter, after all. But I wasn't sure it was up to finding me an apartment. "I was just sort of looking for a good apartment. Fairly central. Decent neighborhood would be nice."
    "No," she said, in a deep, strained, voice. "No apartment for you! Your destiny is here for many years. You need a fine home to return to after your battles. You are a seer. You need peace to contemplate the mysteries of the universe."
    She shook herself again and took a deep breath.
    "There's no fee," she said in a perfectly normal tone. "My cut is half the broker's fee which is paid by the seller not the buyer. How's your credit?"
    "I don't really have much," I said. "I generally pay cash."
    "To get a mortgage you'll need your last two year's 1040s," she said. "Are you a get-it and spend it type?"
    "I've got some investments if that's what you mean," I said. "I could probably cash those in for a decent house much less a down payment. Uhm… Even if I wanted to buy a house, which I'm not sure I do, you haven't asked me how much I want to spend?"
    "This is up to the loas," she said, spreading her hands again. "I do not find the home. The loas find the home."
    "Okay," I said, dubiously.
    "You a seer doubt the loas," she said with a merry laugh. "Trust the loas."
    She led me out and said she'd give me a call in a few days, couple of weeks max. That had been two weeks ago.
     
  7. VMS

    VMS Victim of high standards and low personal skills.

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    From Ringo's FB page:
    This is from the first book, Grunge.

    I don't know if this would work. I suspect you'd kill yourself. Do not try this at home.
    ****************************************
    There were more undead than I thought I'd ever see in my life. At least that weren't shamblers. Earl Harbinger was cranking out .45 ammo like it was past due date. Both the Rays were at the doors, blazing away with, respectively an FN FAL and a Garand. Ray III rolled Old School and I got a new appreciation for the power of .30-06. Dwayne Myers was working back and forth with a flame-thrower and cackling madly.
    What they faced was about twenty mixed undead and a lich which was in the midst of performing a sacrifice. The girl bound to the table looked to be about sixteen, Caucasian and obviously scared to death.
    I wasn't sure what he was planning on summoning, but it wouldn't be good.
    "Spread out," Doctor Joan said. "Phil, right, flame-thrower. Try to miss the sacrifice! Timmy, cover fire from here. Milo, Chad, you're up."
    I sprang up the stairs and moved about ten meters left. Milo stopped about five meters out. We both unlimbered the Light Antitank Weapons.
    Here's the thing about LAWs or any rocket weapon. They have a nasty thing called 'backblast.' If you fire them with something close behind you, say a wall that's about five feet back, the back-blast from the launching charge will tear your body apart like kleenex and kill you stone dead. The backblast is deadly out to about twenty-five meters. It's decidedly unwholesome out to about fifty. The 'minimum safe distance' behind a LAW is seventy-five meters.
    Another interesting fact about the Light AntiTank Weapon made by the Hesse-Eastern Division of Norris-Thermadore. Its minimum arming distance was fifty meters. Less than that and the warhead wouldn’t explode.
    It was a big warehouse but not that big. It was, at most, fifty meters across. The lich was maybe twenty-five meters away. Which was about to suck for the hostage.
    Milo and I simultaneously extended a LAW apiece, turned them around so the rocket would fire behind us, angled them downward slightly so that when the rocket hit the wall, and hopefully didn't detonate, it would bounce up and, hopefully, go through the ceiling, and with near equal simultaneity fired.
    The backblast caught the lich as it was beginning to strike downward with the sacrificial blade. The blast snapped the hostage's head to the side, hard. Hopefully she would be okay but I'd give an even bet she just developed permanent hearing loss in her right ear.
    The lich, on the other hand, was thrown all the way across the warehouse to impact against the container.
    I looked at Milo who was looking at me and we both grinned ear to ear and began cackling madly.
    "Let's hear it for Marine Infantry Training!" I shouted. Even with the hearing protection, I could barely hear after the concussion. "Oorah!"
    "Let's get some!" Milo shouted back.
     
  8. VMS

    VMS Victim of high standards and low personal skills.

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    "Susan wanted me to say thanks for Julie's birthday gift, Chad," Ray said, drily.
    "Did Julie like it?" I asked.
    "Right up until we had to explain it was going to have to go to a nice farm upstate to live with all the other baby kaiju," Ray said.
    "Why?" I asked. "Those things take like a hundred years to grow to any size."
    "Did you know the juveniles climb trees?" Ray said.
    "Duh," I said. "It keeps them away from the adolescents who tend to be cannibals."
    "Have you ever tried to get a baby kaiju out of a live oak?" Ray asked.
    "No," I said. "Was it funny? Did you get video?"
    "Oh, yeah it was funny as heck," Milo said, grinning. "We've got about half hour of video of Ray cussing up a storm trying to catch that thing. They're fast!"
    "And they start shooting plasma really young," Ray added, holding up his arm. "Which is where the fresh burn scars come from. Oh, and Susan wanted me to add that you owe us a new refrigerator."
    "Kitchen I get," I said, puzzled. "Why refrigerator?"
    "It figured out where they were keeping the fish!" Milo said, howling. "And it burned a little circular hole in the bottom of the door! Climbed right in and ate everything in the fridge!"
    "I'll cut you a check."
    ************************************
    "There are kaiju islands?" Decay asked.
    "Where do you think they come from?" Milo said.
    "The life-cycle of kaiju is breed in water, lay eggs on land," I said. "Something like turtles. But instead of returning to the water, the young spend their first century on land. They are omnivorous and cannibalistic, which is why the very young climb trees. To get away from their older siblings. They're also hunted by various other critters. Seagulls will eat a baby kaiju. Very high death rate and the mature adults are rare and breed very rarely. Only about one kaiju in ten thousand makes it to adulthood."
    "Then they eat Tokyo," Milo said.
    "Only found on certain islands near the Japanese coast," Ray added. "The Japanese consider them something like gods and protect the islands where they grow. Couple of them aren't even on maps. When they're about two centuries old they go back to the water. Where they are still preyed upon by bigger kaiju, great whites and giant squid. Until they get big enough to eat back. When they get really big…"
    "They eat Tokyo," Milo repeated.
    "They eat Tokyo," Ray agreed. "Almost always those are females looking for a good place to lay eggs. Tokyo bay used to be one of their main breeding grounds and the Japanese Islands used to be a primary growth area. So the Japanese hunters try to drive them back into the water rather than kill them."
    "And sometimes they lay eggs while stomping all over power lines," I said. "Which are worth a pretty penny on the black market."
    "Which are strictly forbidden for trade by the Japanese government," Ray said, darkly.
    "Which are why they're worth a pretty penny," I said, shrugging.
    "The little ones are really pretty just before they, you know, blast plasma," Milo said. "Their spines get all glowy in blue and red…"
    "Which gives you just enough time to jump off a branch that's twenty feet up in the air," Ray said. "And sprain your ankle."
    "Big guys," I said, shrugging again. "No agility."
     
  9. tattered

    tattered Uber-Aryan
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    [​IMG]
     

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