Author's Note.
This is unprofessional and really I couldn't claim I am professional, and then I would open myself up to many things unpleasant. Being unprofessional I delve into the purpose of this author's note; since this is my first fan- fiction piece, any reviews I get I hugely appreciate, which is why I state read and review please. It really is a confidence builder to let me know people are reading the story. I write for personal enjoyment, but I don't want to be submitting garbage. In addition, it tells me of the stories quality as well as its readability. So that's where the review comes in. I myself have made author's aware of certain aspects of a story which are not true the canon, just trying to helpful. Most press on with their storyline, and declare dues ex machina and just forget about it, some pretend they never saw the offending review, and others take what I said and make a correction or justify it later on. The ones who do I admire, for being able to take advice and not feel like their pride is suffering. I'm writing out of character please by all means tell me, and please make suggestions. I'd never thought I'd prostitute myself out for praise and criticism (constructive), But I am. Frankly some things are flawed with the story, that the title misrepresents the plot slightly (Kurtz and Melissa are nowhere near Munich currently), I don't own the copyrights to Full Metal Panic so I write at the whim that they allow fan-fiction, I had this idea for Kurtz before some people (dave- d's choices specifically) delved into some of his characteristics, and past, which unfortunately are barely hinted at in the manga (what I've read) and anime. In addition to those rather huge flaws, the whole story grammar and presentation wise...seems: awkward, but this could a result of being a lazy perfectionist. I may have not been able to provide daily/weekly entries for my first few submissions because of AP studying/testing, and in general the sophomore Pre-IB final quarter course-load. I'm sorry. Some reviews on chapter 2 might have been nice in the interim to keep the writers enthusiasm up though eh? I realize what I'm asking for: reviews. As a matter of fact I'm practically begging, and this is most unprofessional but I'm not a professional, I'm a specialist (Insert Laughter Here). To conclude, review and I'll be eternally grateful, if you've already reviewed, then I read your stories and have submitted some reviews. If reviews are pouring in and I can't get them for some bizarre reason, then I'm sorry. If this and everything else you know is a lie perpetuated by Argus to keep us ignorant of the Greys, I'm sorry. Please Read and Review. It takes a small chunk of your time, and is greatly appreciated. If I'm imitating an author and doing a bad job of disguising me, flame me. I just want to see people comment, because I have come to the conclusion, that this story obviously really sucks. But I'm trying to figure out why it sucks so badly, and what exactly I need to do. Some help with the story would be appreciated, a lot. I'm prompt answering emails if an answer is requested.
The sound of boots could be heard echoing in the corridors of TDD-1. The metallic clang of boots doing double time on a hard metal surface, and the intermittent clangs of one who stomps their feet in frustration, were prone to constant interruption. This was usually a cessation of the clanging and a resounding thud, and then it began again.
"What's the goddamn matter with you Weber, can't you go for longer than 2 minutes without doing something sexual?"
For the last 3 minutes her right eye muscle had been twitching, a sign that she was going slap something or someone. As ole satchmo' so eloquently put it, It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. Unfortunately for Melissa's targets, she swung hard.
"But sis, the head doors were open! What was I supposed to do? You kicked me in there!" Kurtz protested after he had knocked down Tessa, who had just emerged from the shower. He had only asked to see her towel, what was wrong with that? It had been good a cashmere and wool blend. He wanted one of those for his excursions with his rubber Ente, and Tessa let him have her towel after a little embarrassment.
"You fucking asked to see the captain's towel! While she was wearing it! You goddamn perverted empty headed sniper!" Melissa was a little overprotective of Tessa, and this incident had her steamed.
Kurtz brushed himself off and attempted to look dignified. He spit her with a glare that was rather, for lack of a better word, cold. Anything kind in his expression was gone as his face contorted from surprise to indigence to resentment, and finally pure nastiness. With a hideous snarl on, he gave her the bird at attention and stated:
"Fragen Sie den Kapitän was dann Sie domineering Weibchen geschah!" Kurtz rarely used German around anybody, usually when he had a foul point to make. He stomped off presumably to the bar
"Oooh, Weber I'll have your ass for that later!"
"You can't resist me Melissa, admit it once and for all, I'm just too handsome. Eh?" He put lusty smirk on his face, and wiggled his eyebrows as his demeanor changed from enraged to jolly in an instant. However he did not stop walking, and continued down towards A section.
Melissa walked into the head and kicked the nearest bench that was available. Flying into the adjacent locker, with a resounding clang, she sat down and brushed her black locks out of her field of vision. Tessa approached, now wearing the standard light duty uniform.
"You should learn to control your temper better, Sgt. Major. It's unbecoming of a Sgt. Major to throw tantrums."
Mao pursed her lips at this comment, and brushed it aside, thinking it was of no consequence.
"Did he ask you to take off your towel Captain?" She cut straight to the chase, and looked at her dapple haired captain.
"Sgt. Major. I can assure that I would have dealt with it, if he had in the first place. Sgt. Weber merely noticed the composition of the towel, and asked if he could requisition once for his 'Ente Excursions' whatever those are. You judge the man too harshly I think. You commit even more grievous breaches of protocol yourself. Let up on the poor man, otherwise, I'll have to reassign him to another unit. Perhaps the Indian taskforce..." Now, Melissa realized why the ones not in the Captain's favor, referred to her as the Arctic Bitch. She could be as cold as the north-wind itself.
"Understood, Ma'am, Permission to be dismissed?" Melissa had a rather stoic look on her face.
"Granted, just don't be so hotheaded around Sgt. Weber; people might get to thinking you like him." Tessa remarked with a rather knowing smile.
"WHAT? He's a good man and soldier, but Kurtz and I? Did you go drinking without me or somethin' Captain?" Melissa's face took on the semblance of one who has recently eaten something rotten.
"I'm outta here, Tessa, we can have this discussion later. I've gotta go catch the damn fool." Melissa turned on her heel and shouldered the door open, knocking over a rather surprised Sgt. Weber with a glass to his ear.
"Ssss-ere-ggg-eee--ant---ma-ma-ma-jor. I was merely testing whether or not the locker rooms were soundproofed as requested by the Captain. Permissiontobedismissedthankyouma'amI'llseeyouinthebar!"
After that mouthful Kurtz fled, and would later be described as a human aircraft shooting off a steam catapult. He broke a few Mithril service records in his 40 yard dash to the nearest corner, 3.71 seconds, better than most NFL receivers.
"Kurtz you'd better be running towards the bar! You owe me at least 3 tankards on the house for that stunt!" Melissa shouted as she ran after the eavesdropping Sergeant.
The entire chase proceeded as a Tom and Jerry cartoon would, except this would be one of the few that ended in the chaser's favor, rather than the chasee's favor.
Kurtz had managed to elude Melissa for around 5 minutes, which was record in his books. He usually lasted 10 to 30 seconds.
Why have I lasted so long, he thought to himself and then began to think of Melissa running. Such contortions without sports bras, he would curse their invention for all his days. His nose, ever the obligatory faucet, began to run at a rate that only believable in anime or manga, but it defied the principles of circulation, creating an obvious red trail.
"AHA! Cut you off right at 78 junction! You're so predictable Kurtzie, If you had just gone towards your room, instead of trying to take that shortcut through the galley..." Melissa had a positively freakish smile on her face, one that suggested pain and suffering.
"Uh...Look! Sousuke is making out with a chick!" Her head snapped around to see something that was in the category of pigs flying and hell getting a tourist resort.
"Later Sis! I got you thi-"Kurtz slipped on the blood that had leaked out of his nose in the interim. He did not rise, or move in the slightest.
"Shit, He probably got himself a minor concussion by slipping on his own blood." Melissa remarked in a softer tone.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and neck and slung him into a fireman's carry, his head hanging near her waist. He was quite heavy, for he appeared to be 30 pounds lighter than he actually was. Grumbling, she consigned herself to carrying him all the way to the bar. Unbeknownst to her, Kurtz had awakened around halfway there, as a result of her constant jarring. He decided to improve on his already damaged reputation.
"Uh...Melissa? Could you put me down or something? I'm awake now, so no need to carry the resilient Kurtz Weber" there was a tone of nervousness in his voice, that clearly stated he was trying to make amends.
"The last thing I need is to put you down, and you to slip again because you don't have your balance after that concussion, and make it worse. We have a month until leave, and may be pulled out onto active duty, so I don't you getting hurt, and Sousuke's performance has been suffering lately, if he's pulled out his current mission with Kaname, It's obvious he likes her too much. I hope the brass doesn't get wind of his rather...personal involvement with his assignment. It's not that level quite yet, but they both need each other, a lot more than either is close to realizing."
"Same could be said for both of us..." Kurtz mumbled under his breath.
"What's that Weber?" Melissa's face took on a concerned look.
"Nothing, How many beers do I owe you?" Kurtz hastily replied, trying to change the subject.
"5, if I recall, and a shooting match, and a nice long talk about your childhood so I can blackmail you later" Seeing the look on his face, she eased his fears by playfully tousling his hair, and remarking "If I wanted to blackmail you, I wouldn't need your childhood to do it." His face brightened noticeably, obviously his childhood was not a happy time for him. His eyes had glazed over in a content way, when she had tousled his hair, as if that had distracted him from what was bothering him. Weird...She began to think about his reactions to her as of late, as they walked to the bar. They were distinctly...different, even for Kurtz. Perhaps he actually wanted something other than companionship on that "date", but it couldn't be? Kurtz was way too much of a flirt and wannabe player, to feel that way towards her, plus he had a girlfriend? Didn't he?
"C'mon sis, let's go shooting already, the suspense is killing me."
"Silence is golden Weber, and I don't feel like getting silver right now" Interesting but effective way to tell him to shut-up.
They finally arrived at the shooting gallery and were directed towards aisles 5 and 6. Kurtz ever the poet, took 6, and Melissa laid her OA-98 onto the setup tray of 5.
"Kurtz! Come over to 5 for me will you?" He reluctantly ambled over, and looked quizzically at her.
"What's the deal Sis?" He asked without a trace of suspicion.
"Take my gun and give me yours."
"Why?"
"Because Kurtz, we're going to use the guns we selected, only I get your SIG P-210 and you my OA-98. For old times sake Kurtz, surprise me with those steady hands and unerring aim. I know you can shoot the wings off a fly, and don't bullshit about how you suck at shooting a pistol."
The intercom blared: "Shooters to your aisles, You have 15 seconds till the beginning of the match"
Melissa leaned slightly forward, and gave the surprised German a kiss on the cheek. His cheek glowed a very brilliant shade of napalm red, and then he got to his aisle.
As he got accustomed to his new weapon, he rubbed his cheek, pondering what had just happened. What the hell was that for?
This is unprofessional and really I couldn't claim I am professional, and then I would open myself up to many things unpleasant. Being unprofessional I delve into the purpose of this author's note; since this is my first fan- fiction piece, any reviews I get I hugely appreciate, which is why I state read and review please. It really is a confidence builder to let me know people are reading the story. I write for personal enjoyment, but I don't want to be submitting garbage. In addition, it tells me of the stories quality as well as its readability. So that's where the review comes in. I myself have made author's aware of certain aspects of a story which are not true the canon, just trying to helpful. Most press on with their storyline, and declare dues ex machina and just forget about it, some pretend they never saw the offending review, and others take what I said and make a correction or justify it later on. The ones who do I admire, for being able to take advice and not feel like their pride is suffering. I'm writing out of character please by all means tell me, and please make suggestions. I'd never thought I'd prostitute myself out for praise and criticism (constructive), But I am. Frankly some things are flawed with the story, that the title misrepresents the plot slightly (Kurtz and Melissa are nowhere near Munich currently), I don't own the copyrights to Full Metal Panic so I write at the whim that they allow fan-fiction, I had this idea for Kurtz before some people (dave- d's choices specifically) delved into some of his characteristics, and past, which unfortunately are barely hinted at in the manga (what I've read) and anime. In addition to those rather huge flaws, the whole story grammar and presentation wise...seems: awkward, but this could a result of being a lazy perfectionist. I may have not been able to provide daily/weekly entries for my first few submissions because of AP studying/testing, and in general the sophomore Pre-IB final quarter course-load. I'm sorry. Some reviews on chapter 2 might have been nice in the interim to keep the writers enthusiasm up though eh? I realize what I'm asking for: reviews. As a matter of fact I'm practically begging, and this is most unprofessional but I'm not a professional, I'm a specialist (Insert Laughter Here). To conclude, review and I'll be eternally grateful, if you've already reviewed, then I read your stories and have submitted some reviews. If reviews are pouring in and I can't get them for some bizarre reason, then I'm sorry. If this and everything else you know is a lie perpetuated by Argus to keep us ignorant of the Greys, I'm sorry. Please Read and Review. It takes a small chunk of your time, and is greatly appreciated. If I'm imitating an author and doing a bad job of disguising me, flame me. I just want to see people comment, because I have come to the conclusion, that this story obviously really sucks. But I'm trying to figure out why it sucks so badly, and what exactly I need to do. Some help with the story would be appreciated, a lot. I'm prompt answering emails if an answer is requested.
The sound of boots could be heard echoing in the corridors of TDD-1. The metallic clang of boots doing double time on a hard metal surface, and the intermittent clangs of one who stomps their feet in frustration, were prone to constant interruption. This was usually a cessation of the clanging and a resounding thud, and then it began again.
"What's the goddamn matter with you Weber, can't you go for longer than 2 minutes without doing something sexual?"
For the last 3 minutes her right eye muscle had been twitching, a sign that she was going slap something or someone. As ole satchmo' so eloquently put it, It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. Unfortunately for Melissa's targets, she swung hard.
"But sis, the head doors were open! What was I supposed to do? You kicked me in there!" Kurtz protested after he had knocked down Tessa, who had just emerged from the shower. He had only asked to see her towel, what was wrong with that? It had been good a cashmere and wool blend. He wanted one of those for his excursions with his rubber Ente, and Tessa let him have her towel after a little embarrassment.
"You fucking asked to see the captain's towel! While she was wearing it! You goddamn perverted empty headed sniper!" Melissa was a little overprotective of Tessa, and this incident had her steamed.
Kurtz brushed himself off and attempted to look dignified. He spit her with a glare that was rather, for lack of a better word, cold. Anything kind in his expression was gone as his face contorted from surprise to indigence to resentment, and finally pure nastiness. With a hideous snarl on, he gave her the bird at attention and stated:
"Fragen Sie den Kapitän was dann Sie domineering Weibchen geschah!" Kurtz rarely used German around anybody, usually when he had a foul point to make. He stomped off presumably to the bar
"Oooh, Weber I'll have your ass for that later!"
"You can't resist me Melissa, admit it once and for all, I'm just too handsome. Eh?" He put lusty smirk on his face, and wiggled his eyebrows as his demeanor changed from enraged to jolly in an instant. However he did not stop walking, and continued down towards A section.
Melissa walked into the head and kicked the nearest bench that was available. Flying into the adjacent locker, with a resounding clang, she sat down and brushed her black locks out of her field of vision. Tessa approached, now wearing the standard light duty uniform.
"You should learn to control your temper better, Sgt. Major. It's unbecoming of a Sgt. Major to throw tantrums."
Mao pursed her lips at this comment, and brushed it aside, thinking it was of no consequence.
"Did he ask you to take off your towel Captain?" She cut straight to the chase, and looked at her dapple haired captain.
"Sgt. Major. I can assure that I would have dealt with it, if he had in the first place. Sgt. Weber merely noticed the composition of the towel, and asked if he could requisition once for his 'Ente Excursions' whatever those are. You judge the man too harshly I think. You commit even more grievous breaches of protocol yourself. Let up on the poor man, otherwise, I'll have to reassign him to another unit. Perhaps the Indian taskforce..." Now, Melissa realized why the ones not in the Captain's favor, referred to her as the Arctic Bitch. She could be as cold as the north-wind itself.
"Understood, Ma'am, Permission to be dismissed?" Melissa had a rather stoic look on her face.
"Granted, just don't be so hotheaded around Sgt. Weber; people might get to thinking you like him." Tessa remarked with a rather knowing smile.
"WHAT? He's a good man and soldier, but Kurtz and I? Did you go drinking without me or somethin' Captain?" Melissa's face took on the semblance of one who has recently eaten something rotten.
"I'm outta here, Tessa, we can have this discussion later. I've gotta go catch the damn fool." Melissa turned on her heel and shouldered the door open, knocking over a rather surprised Sgt. Weber with a glass to his ear.
"Ssss-ere-ggg-eee--ant---ma-ma-ma-jor. I was merely testing whether or not the locker rooms were soundproofed as requested by the Captain. Permissiontobedismissedthankyouma'amI'llseeyouinthebar!"
After that mouthful Kurtz fled, and would later be described as a human aircraft shooting off a steam catapult. He broke a few Mithril service records in his 40 yard dash to the nearest corner, 3.71 seconds, better than most NFL receivers.
"Kurtz you'd better be running towards the bar! You owe me at least 3 tankards on the house for that stunt!" Melissa shouted as she ran after the eavesdropping Sergeant.
The entire chase proceeded as a Tom and Jerry cartoon would, except this would be one of the few that ended in the chaser's favor, rather than the chasee's favor.
Kurtz had managed to elude Melissa for around 5 minutes, which was record in his books. He usually lasted 10 to 30 seconds.
Why have I lasted so long, he thought to himself and then began to think of Melissa running. Such contortions without sports bras, he would curse their invention for all his days. His nose, ever the obligatory faucet, began to run at a rate that only believable in anime or manga, but it defied the principles of circulation, creating an obvious red trail.
"AHA! Cut you off right at 78 junction! You're so predictable Kurtzie, If you had just gone towards your room, instead of trying to take that shortcut through the galley..." Melissa had a positively freakish smile on her face, one that suggested pain and suffering.
"Uh...Look! Sousuke is making out with a chick!" Her head snapped around to see something that was in the category of pigs flying and hell getting a tourist resort.
"Later Sis! I got you thi-"Kurtz slipped on the blood that had leaked out of his nose in the interim. He did not rise, or move in the slightest.
"Shit, He probably got himself a minor concussion by slipping on his own blood." Melissa remarked in a softer tone.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and neck and slung him into a fireman's carry, his head hanging near her waist. He was quite heavy, for he appeared to be 30 pounds lighter than he actually was. Grumbling, she consigned herself to carrying him all the way to the bar. Unbeknownst to her, Kurtz had awakened around halfway there, as a result of her constant jarring. He decided to improve on his already damaged reputation.
"Uh...Melissa? Could you put me down or something? I'm awake now, so no need to carry the resilient Kurtz Weber" there was a tone of nervousness in his voice, that clearly stated he was trying to make amends.
"The last thing I need is to put you down, and you to slip again because you don't have your balance after that concussion, and make it worse. We have a month until leave, and may be pulled out onto active duty, so I don't you getting hurt, and Sousuke's performance has been suffering lately, if he's pulled out his current mission with Kaname, It's obvious he likes her too much. I hope the brass doesn't get wind of his rather...personal involvement with his assignment. It's not that level quite yet, but they both need each other, a lot more than either is close to realizing."
"Same could be said for both of us..." Kurtz mumbled under his breath.
"What's that Weber?" Melissa's face took on a concerned look.
"Nothing, How many beers do I owe you?" Kurtz hastily replied, trying to change the subject.
"5, if I recall, and a shooting match, and a nice long talk about your childhood so I can blackmail you later" Seeing the look on his face, she eased his fears by playfully tousling his hair, and remarking "If I wanted to blackmail you, I wouldn't need your childhood to do it." His face brightened noticeably, obviously his childhood was not a happy time for him. His eyes had glazed over in a content way, when she had tousled his hair, as if that had distracted him from what was bothering him. Weird...She began to think about his reactions to her as of late, as they walked to the bar. They were distinctly...different, even for Kurtz. Perhaps he actually wanted something other than companionship on that "date", but it couldn't be? Kurtz was way too much of a flirt and wannabe player, to feel that way towards her, plus he had a girlfriend? Didn't he?
"C'mon sis, let's go shooting already, the suspense is killing me."
"Silence is golden Weber, and I don't feel like getting silver right now" Interesting but effective way to tell him to shut-up.
They finally arrived at the shooting gallery and were directed towards aisles 5 and 6. Kurtz ever the poet, took 6, and Melissa laid her OA-98 onto the setup tray of 5.
"Kurtz! Come over to 5 for me will you?" He reluctantly ambled over, and looked quizzically at her.
"What's the deal Sis?" He asked without a trace of suspicion.
"Take my gun and give me yours."
"Why?"
"Because Kurtz, we're going to use the guns we selected, only I get your SIG P-210 and you my OA-98. For old times sake Kurtz, surprise me with those steady hands and unerring aim. I know you can shoot the wings off a fly, and don't bullshit about how you suck at shooting a pistol."
The intercom blared: "Shooters to your aisles, You have 15 seconds till the beginning of the match"
Melissa leaned slightly forward, and gave the surprised German a kiss on the cheek. His cheek glowed a very brilliant shade of napalm red, and then he got to his aisle.
As he got accustomed to his new weapon, he rubbed his cheek, pondering what had just happened. What the hell was that for?