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[sub][color=silver]Interacting with: Paloma [@Ambra], Michael [@Conscripts], Jean [@LetMeDoStuff], Isaac [@FalloutJack], Jonnie [@Rigmarole], Britta [@Symphoni][/color][/sub][/center]

[color=Silver]To the youth, everything up until this point felt surreal. In fact, the very moment in which he stood felt as if it was slipping away from his grip. Like sand in between the cracks of your fingers. Mikael couldn't fathom entirely that it's been two month since his departure from home, a year since his mother's death and one long train ride 'till he reached the epicenter of the war: The front lines. Stories had flashed throughout his thoughts, shared by brothers and father about the war effort and their experience with it. Most were bathed, laced even with glee and momentous joy but truthfully Mikael could sense that the better part of the stories was that they were alive and at home, at least even if momentarily for the case of his brothers. That every story that had a silver-lining was in fact one that herald blood and sacrifice. Mikael was scared and hiding it was his pastime throughout the course of this long journey. His boots needed maintenance, so he would distract himself with that. Two month of training could be considered suicide to most civilians considering that most felt unprepared or nervous, some had breakdowns and other treated it like any old walk in the park. Mikael had always been vigilant and sturdy in his training. Finding out methods and tricks from men with much more experience and even himself for situational and general combat. Before long he found that his upbringing had prepared him enough to be station as a Marksman, issued with the SM-Longfield Mikael had the responsibility to defend allies from beyond the line of sight.

Before long he draped himself with hood to hide his appearance withing the soil and terrain and soon enough he had learn how to blend and become invisible to the naked eye. Until that unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate letter arrived detailing the responsibilities he needed to undertake after training had concluded. Throughout many of the time where the soldier found R&R and took time to send letter to their families, young Mikael sat at his lonesome polishing his boots and adjusting to his rifle. Time wasted were life wasted. Issued himself the task to learn combat even if he was someone who should stay in the shadows, awaiting for an opportunity like a thief in the night. Close Quarters Combat came naturally to him. He could feel himself trace every movement, feel every muscle, sense the wind at his favor. It was almost as if he was a savant in the arts. Before long he had bested much of his comrades in combat, with the exception of a couple of elites. But this brought joy to Mikael, gave him a sense of purpose and drive he had lost over the year he spent with him mother. 

But every now and again it creeps back to remind him that she was gone. Many thing came to mind about his mother, the beloved woman of his life. How found she was about the world and how proud she was of his growth. To some extent he blamed himself for her death, and to a much larger one he blamed his father. Cancer was something inevitable, it was ticking time bomb waiting to explode. But something kept driving Mikael further, a ignorant hope perhaps but it formed independence and strength beyond what even Mikael could understand about himself. But, it was like it was stated, it was only a matter of time. And he had to take some type of responsibility now that he hadn't a finished education, a home nor a family to return to. His father was a stranger and his brothers were in some place in the war. Mikael hasn't seen them yet, and perhaps he never will. 

And so days after the arrival to the front lines, it was all a matter of waiting. Many veterans spoke ill about the new recruits, other pitied them while a certain other percent greeted them in warm, soldier-like embrace. Now in this very moment was a time where he would be put to the test. Still, would his training be enough? Anything that occurred throughout the time was either and inconvenience or bothersome, but it wasn't so much so that it would leave mikael in a bad mood. Soon after the 1st Lieutenant barged in and all stood at the attention stance, as he had taken the time to explain and introduce many and many of the soldier who were around. It was brief as brief can be. But hell, was it at least some type of beacon in the dark. Two lance corporal's were mentioned. And before Mikael could know it a whole platoon of soldier circled the men and started their introductions. Guess he should participate too... [/color]

[color=9498AF]"Excuse the interruptions Lance Corporal's and squad. I just wanted to introduce myself too. I'm Mikael Lauter, Marksman of the fleet, reporting in."[/color]