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Snippet #1109775

located in Ieni sea, a part of Thryth, one of the many universes on RPG.

Ieni sea

The large span of ocean separating New Thryth and Old Thryth

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Bryce took a long drag on his cigarette, and sighed, smoke jetting from his mouth as if he was a dragon of lore. The transport ship was dark and rather dank, but then again, most under-surface divers were. The utterly massive submarine that he was in lurked beneth the surface, waiting for it's moment to emerge from the writhing sea, and smash into land, where the invasion could begin. Just another day in the Armor Division.

Taking a final puff of his cigarette, he flipped the butt away from him, the low glowing flame at the end fading out as it rolled over the side and into the underdecks. He would look around his hanger, and his other team members. They were talking amongst themselves, as usual, about women. He knew that they were Army based, but that didn't mean they had to oggle anything that had breasts.
"Hey. Will you guys stop fappin' over there? It's not like you don't do that every night." Bryce called out to them.
"We're not, asswipe!" Called Denison, a Reaver pilot, "We're currently out of pictures of your WIFE." He said smirking.
"Oh really? Well I've got some pictures of me and your mother..." Bryce retaliated.
"Yeah yeah, tell it to the Commandant, Cry-son. Think you're a hot shot 'cause you get the Mammoth." Another soldier, Wesson said.
"Well sooorry. At least I don't blow the commander trying to get him to reasign ME to it. Besides, they issue tanks according to dick size." Bryce shot at him with a grin.
"Oh, you're right. So they have they have to compensate you?" Denison mocked.
"No, I just can't fit into one of those dinky, piss-poor excuses for an armor division."
"Aahh, shut it, Bry. You can stick with your slug." Another responded.
"And you can stick with my piss in your coffee tommorow."

They ended the dialoug with their various hand gestures, before their Commander came over their headset.
"Captain Aurgo is right about the vehicle thing. Why else would they have given me this entire SHIP!" He said, before the entire group burst into laughter.
"In all seriousness, though. Get to your Armor, boys. It's almost go time." The burly voice said over the headset. Bryce, and the rest of the pilots sitting around the hanger, began to jog to their respective machines. Bryce climbed up into the tank, and grinned as he started the vehicle, the massive war machine roaring to life. Bryce pushed earplugs into his ears, before turning his headset to max volume, the combination resulting in hearing the people over the headset, but not the almost deafening roar of the tank. "Mammoth 05, 'Juggernaut', operational and on standby!" He called over the tank's sound.