# A tale of City-States and Compressed Air



## gamecat (Apr 11, 2003)

Hissing paint flew threw the air below Geoff Falkenberg, who stood behind the facade of the roof of a burnt-out convienience store in the ruins of Indianapolis, Indiana, in the former United States of America. Standing up, Falkenberg let loose three rounds of paint from his weapon, an ancient artifact of superior airsmithing, a Tippmann 98 Custom, replete with a Flatline barrel attachment. The three paintballls flew down into the crowd below, some thirteen followers of the Tentacled Destroyer Cult, all three hitting one follower in the chest, shoulder, and neck. The man fell to the ground wheezing for breath. Falkenberg fell to his side on the roof, as a hail of flying paint came whizzing over the facade.

"Where is the rest of the team?" Falkenberg snapped into his tranceiver, several paintballs flying toward his position resulting in misses.

"Sorry, Needler, we're tied down here. We've got the squiddies all over us!" Falkenberg's comrade said back through the radio net.

_Damn. This happens far too regularly._...

still being written, being done while in school 

Falkenberg's Marker
http://paintball-discounters.automated-shops.com/m98-custom-sniper.jpg[url]


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