#tiger moran

[irregolar-mente]

A bad manip of our bad boys, because reasons.

[bashingboundaries]

Well, the heatwave was nice while it lasted. - SM

[bashingboundaries]

Took this picture three days ago, a little after dawn.

Not bad for a phone camera, don’t you think? - SM

[bashingboundaries]

I love racing.

It’s the adrenaline, of course, but it’s calming, too: an ideal mixture of the excitement of hand to hand combat and all the focus and quietness of a perfect sniper shot.

I’ll admit, it feels good to be able to achieve that perfect stillness of mind and deep satisfaction without having to kill anyone, for a change.

[bashingboundaries]

The news in itself is amusing in the most juvenile of ways, but - the Daily Mail just had to go full force on it, huh?

Oh - oh God. I just made it worse, didn’t I?

[irregolar-mente]

Hello my darlings, here’s a portrait of my beautiful son.

Edit: this is getting so much more love than I expected and I’m overwhelmed. Love y’all for loving him.

[bashingboundaries]

“A sniper can forget to eat, to drink, to breathe even, but a sniper never, ever forgets to care for his rifle.”

Here I am, casually adapting the words of wisdom of the Witcher Vesemir of Kaer Morhen.

I swear my instructor used to tell us just the same about rifles, only with more cursing involved, as I recall.

This one here is a CheyTac M200 intervention. The range of effective fire varies from 6003 to 6889 ft, 1830 to 2100 meters, for those of you who live in a country with a more logical length measurement system. I pushed it to 2300, still worked fine.

Range and accuracy wise this rifle is still pretty much unrivalled. It is, however, hard to transport because of its size. It is also rather expensive, reason why most countries didn’t choose it as dotation for their snipers. One thing I seem to have in common with the British government : price is none of my concern. Admittedly, though, I leave this at home when the job doesn’t require a long range accuracy as much as a fast retreat.

I have mixed feelings about this particular rifle: we’ve got some damned history, together.

-SM

[bashingboundaries]

Most people appreciate closure, but he’s never been “most people”.

Me, on the other end, I’m as average as it gets, I would have loved a nice period at the end of the sentence, instead of turning the page and finding it surprisingly blank.

My affection has been used and abused, yet I still wonder sometimes if there had been signs I failed to read, still wonder where did I go wrong.

“You’re a sweetheart like that, soft...like clay.”

“Visceral boy”

I think of anything he’s ever said to me and I seem to suddenly see, behind every word, an insult that I could swear wasn’t there before. Doubt feels like a disease rotting whatever sweet memory I thought I had.

I don’t suppose I’ll ever see him again. Maybe he’s really dead, maybe not... does it matter?

He left.

If he’s not dead, I’ll still have to face that ‘we’ are.

-SM