/dixie/- Southern US and Friends

celtic solidarity edition

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/acadiana/

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is it true that southern states hunt hogs and niggers as a pastime?

incase you didnt see

I've never hunted hogs but I know people who do

i should really be toying around more with what kind of a style i want to do the book with.
Instead i just drew a bunch of qt ladies

what's the most "southern" town you've ever been to?

a comic called the adventures of johnny reb and mehmet (unless we change it), i wrote a short story about a confederate soldier winning a magic canoe off an injun river spirit

shit im gonna repost it in a bit, its been a while

didnt know you wanted a rewrite, i can simplify it to dialogue and some scenery-exposition, ill post that in a few days

McGehee, Arkansas

>hunting sacred animals
the boars of course

Will Texas trade flags if we help you in the 2nd civil war? Or at least give us the best star?

Froglevel, Arkansas

gauls did it too, a giant boar at a feast was a symbol of wealth and status as i recall

and then motherfuckers would fight over who got the finest cuts of meat

cool, whats it about and how far along are you?

alright
if you can hand it in 2 days that would be great then it would perfectly suit my schedule.
A good way of writing comic books is that instead of just writing it into a notepad, try to draw little stickman first and add speech bubbles and write the dialouges there, that way half the paper doesnt became text.

There needs to be alot of short texts, witty comebacks and dialouges that allow for the scene to change rapidly (someone frowns, the other person turns around smth like that)

i think i did a more detailed observation the first time you posted it, if you can find it in the archives that might help you alot

neat

not at all cause i am a lazy piece of shit

Yes, but they didn't chase them every time, and it was always to eat it at the end, not just for the sake of killing it

Medshit genes are at it again

>and it was always to eat it at the end, not just for the sake of killing it
We eat them too but a lot of the time it's for pest control. I think the game and fish commision has a bounty on them but idk

i cant help it its so fucking hot i dont wanna do anything.
Like, i cant even be arsed to get off my seat and go buy ice cream.

wanna be a dixie protectorate?

ill try but no promises, a guy went on vacation at work and we're all working a little overtime

but honestly, the short story would probably translate to less than a dozen pages

if a recall correctly, some celts chose animals as their "totem" of sorts, and it was forbidden for them to eat the flesh of that particular beast, a boar being a recurring theme

yeah boar season is year round because they're invasive and there really isn't a predator large enough to fuck with a full grown boar

i mean, they kill people regularly goring them in the thigh and damaging arteries, wild hogs are dangerous as fuck

They destroy billions in property and crops every year

Men roared and bullets screamed, move onto the line, take aim, fire, move back to reload, rip the paper, pour in the powder and the miniball, stuff it down with your ramrod and don't you shoot that rifle with your damned ramrod in. Move up and take aim again, soldier.

An officer cries hoarsely.

The bugle confirms the charge.

The rebel yell sounds and fury descends.

A rockslide of men in shabby greys fall into an ocean of blue uniforms.

Feet planted ankle deep in slippery red mud, above the head circling droves of crows and vultures.

Trust the man beside you and the horse's ass up on the horse.

It would've been a battle like any other if it weren't for the sudden searing pain and shattered ribcage from an enemy shot in Johnny's side. He had a nice repeating Spencer that was ready for another shot, so he took immediate revenge against the yankee responsible before falling backwards and succumbing to the pain.

Minutes or hours, something like that. A stretcher beneath him. The sky moving for some reason he was going against the flow of the clouds... its harder to go upstream than down....

Suddenly a cold splash of water woke Johnny from his stupor. More than a splash really, he opened his eyes to a murky river bottom and red streams of blood in the water flowing around him. As he ached for air and almost took in water in his desperation, he finally regained his focus, “Oh god fucking damnit gotta turn upright.”

His attempt to flip over was cut short by the reminder that the blood he saw was his and the pain he felt was from leadshot ripping him to pieces. A brief look down exposed a gruesome wound in his lower ribcage, the flesh pulled open and wide by the current, if he knew what a sea anemone was he might even have remarked the comparison. His lungs brought him back to the problem at hand of drowning, and he put all his might into putting his arms out to the muddy bottom to face the living world once more. Or he would have if he were not bound to the stretcher.

His allies attempt to bring him and other wounded over a river had been met with some resistance apparently. Looking to the left he saw the still, yet slowly drifting figures of cloth and swirling mud, occasional faces and hands poking palely through the murk.

A desperate gasp for air is met with something wrong. A cough to expel does nothing. Vision fades away and something deeper than sleep creeps in.

Yet relief came from the seething water, a sudden inhale brings in the scent of tobacco, smoked deer, a fire of pine twigs...

It hasn't been that hot lately. It should be a lot hotter

>dozen of pages
you say that, in its current state even if i used 35x50 (which i am) it will easily take 20 pages and probably more since the dialouge is too long.
Since each page is gonna be 4-6 scenes with some of them getting merged

The hot weather just hit like 2 days ago here

Johnny opened his eyes.

It was dim, the room was filled with a haze of drifting smoke, above him was a mass of driftwood. A longer stare brought the realization that it was a roof woven of driftwood, and the walls were planks, engraved with... indian patterns. Rattlesnakes tied in a knot, encircling a hand which upon the palm bears a dark almond eye. The image of a water panther. The frog who lied to the sun. Strange and alien warriors whose noses were beaks and whose arms were wings.

Looking inward he saw a fire and a hunched figure beneath a blanket. The long black hair and the diamonds of a rattlesnake woven as a pattern on the blanket exposed the host as surely as his home had.

Johnny leaned up, and grasped his wound, feeling...nothing?

No no... There was something squishy and wet. He looked down and saw his fingers touching the bottom of his lung.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”, he belted out, jumping to his feat in a state of panic and disbelief. His wound was there, surely, but it did not pain him.

The indian by the fire looked back briefly, Johnny could barely see the outline of a face, and then the figure faced the flames once more.

which isnt bad btw.
A prolouge SHOULD take around 20-25 pages

>once i cut it back i mean it should condense it a bit, ill post some reference material on indian art as well, we could use more material on southern indians in /dixie/ anyway

“I can't recall ever having so many guests before. Certainly never this many white men”, came a strangely smooth manner, his grasp of English was excellent but his curling vowels and smooth cadence were hard to place. Johnny had met indians from Appalachia to the Ozarks, Cherokee to Quapaw, and he'd never heard an indian speak quite like that before.

“As a matter of fact, you're the seventeenth guest so far today, and there's at least another twenty out the door behind you”, the indian raised his left hand to motion Johnny to the fire, his right hand apparently facilitating a puff of smoke from the unseen face staring at the fire.

Johnny stood and approached, he'd never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He took a seat to the left of the man and looked upon his apparent savior. A strange face, and familiar eyes met his. The indian looked... wrong. His hair was jet black, like a young indian's, but his face was deep set with wrinkles from a man who looked close to death. What's more, below a crinkled brow were bright blue eyes, staring straight through Johnny.

The indian grabbed a wide stool from his left and took out a pack of cards with his right, “You're the seventeenth, and so this will be the seventeenth time I've said this. You're only here for a little while before you leave, so how about a quick game of poker? My first white guest taught me the game.”

“Are you out of yer fuckin' mind injun?” Johnny snarled through bared teeth, “Why the fuck would I play a game of cards with a hole in my side I can fit my damn fist into? Where the hells my company and where the hell are we?”
The man beside him sighed, “Every time with you white men, fine. You died in me. You're here in my home before you go.”

Johnny sat for a moment. The idea of death wasn't surprising given his line of work and the situation and the terrible things he recalled. After some intense thought Johnny formed a question, “I'm sorry, you said I died in you?”

“Yes, I'm the river.”, the indian inhaled a deep puff of tobacco from his pipe, and blew a thick cloud to the ceiling, as it reached the driftwood, suddenly the driftwood moved and light shone through, the woven pattern giving way to the sinuous dappled light seen from underwater. The whole room was now illuminated with pale blue light, constantly shifting and dancing.

“Oh.” Johnny wasn't smart, but he had enough sense not to question his eyes.

“So a game of poker?”

“Well why the hell not, deal injun.”

>pic
since how long is Mehmet with you? is he an american in Turkey?

>nah he's just a turk from istanbul that likes southern culture, a welcome addition to /dixie/

"Five card stud” said the indian, before flourishing the deck back and forth, dealing five cards to each side. Johnny looked at his hand. It was almost good, but it was shit. A king, queen, jack, and two threes.

The indian across from him made no change in his expression. Stoic and unmoved, he put down one card. Johnny thought fuck it and put down both threes.

He drew a ten and a two.

It was at this points that Johnny remembered something. He had never had the best luck at cards, nor was he good at picking tells, and he tended to get ganged up on by everyone else during the poker games with his fellow soldiers because he had a big mouth. So Johnny came up with a foolproof system to ensure he never lost too much money. Cheat constantly. And what he remembered was he had an ace up his sleeve, or rather in his boot, that he kept there just in case he made a bet he didn't plan on following through with.

So in this instance he had a winning hand. He just had to convince this injun he had a winning hand.

“Hey pal, I don't suppose I could have a smoke? Been weeks since we ran outta tobacco”, he deliberately eyed the pipe sitting close to the fire, grinning like an idiot. The indian moved to grab it and hand it to Johnny, to which Johnny quickly said “If you don't mind finishing that little bit off, could we start with a fresh bowl?”

The indian looked to the pipe and nodded, he'd used up most of the pipe's tobacco to bring the light inside, he took a stick from beside the fire and lit it, using it to finish the remnants in the pipe and he moved to grab his tobacco pouch.

“Wait white man, put your cards face down on the table first”

Johnny frowned, but did as he was told. The indian was suspicious, and kept an eye on the cards as he took his pouch off a hook on the wall, and handed both the pouch and pipe to Johnny. He looked to the shabby rebel and said, “If you want one you'll be willing to prepare it.”

Johnny casually took them both and did just that, taking a long drag and blowing it to the brightened ceiling, imagining it turning to naked ladies and being slightly disappointed when nothing happened.

He gave the indian a wolfish grin, “Alright lets see em.”

The river had three tens and two fours. Johnny had a flush.

Because Johnny had switched the cards in the cloud of smoke when the indian had breathed out the last of that pinch of tobacco, before he'd put his cards down and before the indian had fetched the pouch.

“Well that hasn't happened before,” said the indian, finally showing expression, a deepset frown that deepened every wrinkle to a crease. “Let's play again.”

“No,” grinned Johnny.

The indian somehow frowned deeper.

divorce should be illegal except in extreme circumstances

i originally came to dixie because penman was doing calligraphy and i am an graphics designer student so i drop by to say hi
i was rushing my finals at midnight and this was a nice place to shitpost

>finally another update
today is a blessed day y'all

>and you shitpost a lot turkbud kek

>update for what?

Johnny had the look of a fox in a henhouse, “So since I won and we ain't playing again, you owe me. What'd I win?”

The indian looked sternly at the victor across from him, he stared until Johnny half thought the indian was gonna jump him and had figured it all out. But apparently not, as the indian leaned back and said, “What do you want?”

It took no time for Johnny to find the words he needed, “A way out of here.”

The indian sat still for a few minutes more, before shuffling over to a pile of skins in the corner and moving them off of something. Beaver, rabbit, deer, and wolf pelts, dozens of them piled waist high, sat atop an object longer than a man. Johnny had presumed the skins to be a bed, but this was not the case. As the skins were removed, an ornate canoe covered in the same strange indian patterns as the walls was revealed.

“This is the only boat I have, it's yours. Take it to the river to the west and wade into the water with it up to the top of your wound, then climb in, your injury will disappear.”

Johnny didn't need to be told twice. He quickly set to taking the canoe out from underneath the few pelts left and drug the surprisingly lightweight canoe out the door, leaving the indian alone once more.

The indian walked back over to the fire, sat down and began shuffling the cards, but... wait. One of them is different from the rest. He quickly realizes that this ace is not from the same deck, while his cards have a red patterning on the back, Johnny's replacement has a picture of a naked white woman. He begins to chuckle, his deep lines giving way to a slight grin. His laugh grows louder, heartier and deeper, and as it rises from deep within him the wrinkles on his face begin to soften and fade away. His laugh becomes so intense he doubles over and his marks of age disappear entirely, leaving a youthful indian locked in the throes of mirth.

Never stopping the fit of laughter, he picks up his pipe, and for a brief moment quietly inhales, before exhaling and continuing the laughter, but this time the smoke pouring from his mouth is thick and black, the laugh takes on a cruel and vicious tone, and the black smoke fills up the roof, beginning to rumble and suddenly spark like a thunderstorm.

“HAHAHAHA FUCKING WHITE MAN, ENJOY A CURSED CANOE THAT CAN TAKE YOU ANYWHERE AND EVERYWHERE BUT HOME HAHAHAHA!”

>end4nao

Time for a southern indian dump

pic related is a mississippian human head effigy pot

i need clothing btw.
Lots of clothing references, i did find some but more would be nice

incoming

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Reminder that South Indians actually do poo in the loo.

Anyone got any good /lit/ lists?

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>Starship Troopers
I loved the movie but how could you fuck that up

I get that Paul Verhoeven is a lefty but still

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Why do you have all of these

masturbation material
all /his/torians have them

ive got all kinds of weird shit on my computer

you'd be lying if you said you didnt senpai

yee

i don't post on /his/ because it's a shitfest but i certainly lurk and save

What should I buy on steam-

god their pottery is so fucking good

they crush up seashells and fire them to calcify that shit, and then mix the burnt seashell powder into their clay to temper it and make it stronger

ive read accounts where spanish missionaries on the first trips to the south considered some of the pottery to be as fine as spain's

shadowrun

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Also is Dragon's Dogma any good. I know Sup Forums used to meme it a lot because pc didn't have it

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thats all for now

I know this is a bit far fetched for /dixie/ but I'm starting college real soon and I'm looking for a backpack to commute with

the thing is I ride a motorcycle and I want it to be high capacity, but all the ones I'm finding are HYPER ASSAULT TACTICOOL

what do you guys use/recommend

pic somewhat related, a painfully obviously paid review. It's like they went down the checklist and nothing more

Ask /out/ and /trv/

just get a tacticool backpack. Mine has lasted for 5 years

>war of northern aggression
>dixiecucks LITERALLY attacked fort sumter first

They invaded Carolinian waters first

I don't wanna be put in the school newspaper as "most likely to shoot up school"
they're also rather more expensive than the others

this one looks alright but it's up there in price. But I guess you get what you pay for.
I just want something large and unassuming
amazon.com/ArcEnCiel-Military-Tactical-Backpack-Waterproof/dp/B019MK8P0K/

"no"

>"most likely to shoot up school"
Don't wear all black all the time then

Mine is olive colored tho

What language are you learning /dixie/? I am learning Portuguese

Lafayette LA
because I live there

Gonna try to learn French after school lets out

>turkish and finnish
>easier than fucking corean
Boy you have no fucking idea

I suppose it is easier than Korean for a native English speaker because they don't use characters.

I guess.
Its super easy for a turk to learn japanese since the rules are similar and its the same language group but i know its hard for latin speakers.
I tried learning russian once, never again

>we wuz azns n sheit

My brother learned how to speak jap just to watch anime

Nashville reporting in

your brother needs to be mercy killed

Edgefield, South Carolina.

Even if it is just for anime, learning a language is always a good idea! It keeps your brain sharp!

I learn Portuguese partially shitpost in /luso/

who here /sarasota/

That's too weird

NI is too bizarre for me

/cum/ is better

Am I the only one that doesn't give any care to the dead arts of the Indian?

Banned from /bant/, boyos

Probably

>banned from the only board above /trash/

what'd you post senpai

Mods just dont like me there because I told people to stop posting gay shit. Range banned me