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[color=silver]For the least there was some recognition. Mikael managed to attest that the Lance Corporal, the one with book and pen in hand had sought to his attention and acknowledge his presence. By extension of one of his comrades and the 1st Lieutenant, he had registered his name as Jean of last name Charpentier. A Darcsens name. There was some oddity to this fact, something which built at the epicenter of Private Lauter's core. It was strange enough to know Darcsens were here, but one with rank higher than his own? Mikael dismissed it as purely coincidental and something the Lance Corporal earned by extension of skill, prowess and discipline. A figure he should look up to, achieve to become as he is. There was subtlety to Lance Corporal Charpentier's features, a simple gesture was sufficient to ease the youth. This pleased the soldier within the youth, but glinting at the edge of his mind however was the teetering notion of colloquy with his fellow soldier's. He had arrived late by notions of his own, but perhaps there were few whom took notice. He hadn't picked up a single name outside that which were mentioned by the 1st Lieutenant, everyone else was a face and a weapon. Rifles most of them, none seem to vary. A sapper in the midst too, a shock trooper, and what seems to be an engineer. Riflemen and and toll-taker, frontliner's of the frontlines. This was heightened by Lance Corporal Black's machine gun. A weapon of choice to those who aren't afraid to take the bull by the horns. The other's followed suit, and although some did carry the standard SM-Lonfield, they didn't have equipped the far-scope he had. Deducing them to more of those task to challenge adversity head on. 

Finally, faces... there were many. A bit too many to count and much less to identify. All herald unique features which bloomed into existence rather beautifully, but there wasn't much to carry over due to the fact that he has already wasted enough time making out what their roles were. Primarily, he should've simply asked and stated that as the topic of conversation. Utilizing that as the building block to bridge their companionship and form bonds, however he foolishly chose to silently ponder and analyze his squad like if they were displays at an art gallery. Alright, he soon rose himself to begin a conversation, huffing the oxygen which would echo his thoughts into veritable words before the 1st Lieutenant barged into the floor commanding the troop to begin mobilization within the next minute. Such force was now utilized to verbalize his [i]Yes, Sir![/i] response and make him wallow in the embarrassment that begun to color his cheeks.

Hands trailed to his hood, piecing together final article to hide himself. His hood took over his mien, placing it on his head as he began to prepare to what was to come upon the frontlines.

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The frontlines were everything and nothing Mikael expected. Although there was certainly flora that bloomed at some juncture in this area, much of it was had died and withered over the scrambles of war. Gun power must've polluted throughout and damaged the remaining ounces of life this place demonstrated. The footing was difficult, their boot would bury under the weight and mush of the ground. Combination of water and withered soil which had yet to dry, rain hadn't stopped until recently it seemed and the trail had puddles of water darkened and  deep. Usage of grenades and explosive, trails of mortars perhaps... The battle hadn't halted at all since even before they arrived here. treacherous was the footing, nothing here gave any premise of safety. The air was stagnant, and distant sounds of gunfire and screams were bellowing in the air. But the most poignant detail of them all was the smell, due to the weather's efforts to control what men had transpired upon its land, the smell permeated and ran across his senses. There was not always the time to retrieve the bodies which had fallen during the fight, and so if there were those who noted, the stench of blood and decomposing meat colored the field with its final hue. Anxiety was once more stationed at Mikael's chest, every visceral detail about this war drew him ever closer to the same conclusion... He was at war. Basic training was a playground compared to what he had experience now withing the terms of mere minutes of the field. But composure was not only a requirement, but a necessity.  

He shifted his view to his comrades, and some were shaking in their boots, and other stood proudly to battle against the forces which they deliberately or not chose to combat against. Pulling his locket out, Mikael stared intricately unto the picture of his late mother, the smile she wore and what that meant to him. There were truths and decisions he needed to be responsible for. Regardless of his choices before, this was were all of that met their finality. He could sense it, everyone here is trying to forget, forget that they can die. And Mikael had this notion so presently, it weighed his feet, sunk his heart and weakened his grip to his rifle. Or so, such sense attempted to do so. He stood proudly with poise and determination. His eyes trailed to the mirror which stood at the other end of the locket. And he glanced back at his eyes, the heterochromia which poisoned his visage since birth, the dotted birthmark under his left eye. The look which was unshakable on his mien, the training which got him his position here at the army. Everything lead up to this point, and he knew peace with the turmoil. Purpose... something he needed to fight for, something stronger than himself. 

But it shook on the pedestal which it stood. It teetered from side to side, so Mikael needed to, no... Private Lauter needed to keep it in check. A cog to his rifle, a polish of his combat knife, a quick sleigh of the hand to pull out his pistol. Half a second to the draw, easy grip and quick formation. Readiness was at its best, now it all came down to skill and vigilance. One of the Lance Corporal's was shivering ever harder than the rest, he needed to seat himself within his training. This could drastically dwindle the morale of the company. However, Lance Corporal Black immediately dismissed his worry and cheered them to movement.

Which Mikael confidently responded with a... nod. He was still a bit embarrassed after not being able to get a word out earlier. [color=9498AF]"...I'll do it. I'll be the best version of myself here. As long as this gun is in my hand I'll be sure to use it to defend this company of ours."[/color] This was both a pep-talk to his team, but also to himself. He needed more than any soldier in this division, although you wouldn't notice under the veil of his stern look and the intensity of those horrid mutation of eyes he has. [color=9498AF]"You can trust me in that, Lance Corporal Charpentier."[/color] [/color]