[centre][hr][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181005/fc898f921f53203bc3bc9106717c7c88.png[/img] [sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 9th - [b]Reactions[/b][/i][/color][/sub] [hr][/centre] [color=Silver] Jean felt his heart fall into a full stop, ceasing to move or pump more blood around his body when the sights of the damned were set upon the cavalry. Each of them collapsed so vigorously, both innocent creature and rider alike. A fist tightened on his right side as he struggled to remain relaxed and at ease from the violence that had plagued these Federation lands. Why was it now that the slaughter seemed even more disturbing from afar. It was quite a difficult contemplation over whether or not he felt glad to not be a participant of the Cavalry charge, but Jean was adamant that spectating along the sidelines was something equally as agonising for all parties. Whilst he wasn't either a friend of the Imperials nor Federation, Jean felt inclined to hope that those behind the machine guns felt sympathy and regret towards the mass slaughter. God forbid, if they hadn't batted an eye of remorse towards the hundreds that had just been slaughtered in their butchery he would...[i]he would[/i]... No, this was not a good thing to do. Jean instantly tried to distract himself. The mind was a fragile entity that could be torn into pieces if put under heavy stress. Hill 58 had already proven that Jean was weak-minded, something that everyone was likely to hate him for. He even had worries about whether or not Isaac and his fellow comrades would actually deem him a capable asset. Perhaps Amone would be the perfect place to [i]off[/i] Jean so that they could gain a better replacement as a Corporal. After all, with the way Jean had been treated by Middleton too, it wouldn't have been surprising if that was his fate to come. Yet he didn't want to think of such trivial atrocities just yet. Combined with the still image of the horrific slaughtering fields of Amone's outskirts, Jean was in dire peril for a distraction, and the others all around him seemed to be doing the same. Jean thought to himself quickly of the previous conversations he had, and the sweet ones, and he continued to list his mind to hunt out such desirably needed thoughts. He remembered what Reyna had said to him and how he should take care of himself. It was sweet in itself, as sweet as what Kalisa had also spoken of, and it too conflicted his mind. At least in that situation, he managed to use his attraction towards both fascinating soldiers within his squad as a way to deprive that senseless hatred for the fate of the cavalry, which was something he always wanted to forget. Before they were to trudge along, he looked back at Reyna and Kalisa for a moment, trying to pick apart what exactly there was for him to be appreciative of. Firstly came Kalisa. Out of the two, Jean clearly was more confident around her when they spoke. It would be wrong to deny that it was the Darcsen bond that all of them held. It even made it easier for him to talk to Franz, who was an Imperial an would, in a normal world, be difficult to talk to. However, it was that Darcsen bridge that had helped Jean cross towards settling easily with Kalisa's. She was obviously a lot more of a soldier than he was. Sometimes when observing on the train he'd notice the slight use of logic and order to try and navigate the newer recruits into doing the right thing and respecting the right people. Whilst some may have seen it as an aggravating use of force, force in which Kalisa didn't hold in the hierarchy, Jean admired it greatly. Perhaps she could help him with his confidence, striving to place him in situations that would require a strict lack of nerve and fear. She wasn't a drill sergeant, though, which was where the compassion he had grew at its most. She had the ability to be kind, to be sweet and to speak in such manners that made Jean's broken little heart flutter about. Of course, he definitely mentioned that in his poem. Mixed with the new uniform, Jean couldn't help but do exactly what Michael was like around Lucia: helplessly try to resist the urge to admire with a watchful eye. There was still a layer of guilt on Jean's behalf situated around how he hurt her head when protecting her from the artillery which had stuck with him, making him persistent to make amends with her. Then there was Renya. Now, whilst he was far more confident around Kalisa, physically Jean held a stronger attraction to the beautiful Vinlander volunteer. It was as if wherever she went, the light and godly rays that broke through the bleak clouds followed her every step. Blended with her acute accent and dialect, it was clear that Jean was deeply nervous around how physically perfect she was. Of course, Jean would never admit that for fear of his own respect. A few rumours had it around the train, though he never had confirmation from Reyna herself, that she'd descended from a rich family out in the USV. It made him feel slightly awkward, yet fascinated, around her. Jean clearly wasn't the richest of people, having come from the middle grounds of Liege City. As a Francian native, Jean knew however that Vinlanders and Francia shared a strong history of assisting one another, even in the old days of colonialism. With that, she held the sweetest and friendliest look on life. Jean watched her reaction to the slaughter of the horse's and, honestly, it pulled once more on his heartstrings. He knew that she was yet to directly face an enemy, instead of hearing or spectating it. Amone would change that, especially considering she was a sapper, someone who'd have to go into the depths of the tunnels just to plant a single explosive charge. The worst part is, Jean would have to order her to do it, and would simply have to hope that she would be willing to commit to whatever horrors lurked beneath the city of Amone. But it was in these transitional thoughts of the two comrades of beauty that he began to realise and remember. Jean was strictly persistent on such romantic pursuits for one main reason: he had lost the only woman he'd ever loved in his life. Olivia, of course. Platonic love, as well, nothing from those Southern Vinlander stereotypes. But she was the only female that had ever bothered to continue to ease Jean's mental pains and thus became a part of his life. When the news of her death finally arrived, that part was carved out with a thick scalpel. Jean had no intentions in the past to fill that space in his heart, but simply coming across both Reyna and Kalisa put him into a conflicting mindset of what was wise and unwise in the war. Would they even care if he tried to commit to something so naturally beautiful or would they see it as an unfaithful practice to the military code? The military itself didn't restrict relationships of the sort but they never explicitly said they encouraged it for fears of couples being torn apart by the tip of a bullet. Some, however, argued that it was no different to a sweetheart waiting at home only for her husband to be shot in a foreign land. Jean missed Olivia, and seeing the horse's amassed in a slaughter made him worry about how Olivia had died. She was the light to his old life. This new one was nothing without her. Jean could feel the pain of remembering her go down in a swirl of painful confusion. She was his life. She was his sister. She was his companion and tutor. And now she was gone. Jean was desperate to find someone who would help him feel such a way, and the only positive to him thinking so deeply about the need for his romantic pursuit of both Kalisa or Reyna at least came in the form of distracting him well and truly from the angers of war. Jean knew that within a few moments Middleton would give the order to start moving towards the frontlines. Jean himself took out his binoculars and watched in the distance, seeing that those who'd been defending the outskirts were in few numbers and were actually beginning to retreat away from their positions, possibly from expending such ammunition or lack of manpower. Or perhaps they were luring the Federation into a trap of the sorts, yet Jean knew there was no point arguing against it with a Captain like Middleton running the show. Instead, he turned once more to Reyna, and with a gentle motion he moved Reyna's face away from the direction of the horse's.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"S-Shhh, don't look at them. Come on, tell me about Vinland. What was it like back home? Where abouts did you come from? Personally, I was from Francia, and Liege City. Maybe thinking of home might help you comfort your mind? And if that doesn't work..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean smiled sweetly and pointed towards the necklace wrapped around her neck, the one Olivia used to own all the time. With a gentle brush of his hand, he placed her own hand onto the pendant with a somewhat friendly, yet authoritative, order complete with his smile. His last sentence was met with facing the rest of the squad, trying to encourage all of those new and experienced to the leadership, or rather lack of it, Jean provided.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Let [i]her[/i] guide you. All of us will look to her when we need that little extra boost. Same goes for all of us. Think of home. Think of something welcoming. We still have a few minutes before we head out. The defenders have abandoned their posts anyway..."[/b][/color] [centre][sub][@SMS][@Bushman501][/sub][/centre]