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[sub][color=Silver][i]Outskirts of Amone, September 9th - [b]Order No. 76 (Continued)[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	Why was she the one who needed protection? Oh lord...oh god...Why her of all people? Lucia knew that Middleton would never let go of her and it scared her to think that she was finally about to leave the safety of her hypocritical leader's arms. As much as she hated him, she felt a paternal love for the man, one that spoke as if he was her guiding father that had plucked her from the trees of desperation, giving her purpose. However, why was it this purpose of all things to be considered? Why was she to storm the frontlines and to kill people, innocent or wicked, for the sake of another man's orders? She was nothing more than the sick man of the Federation; Lucia was indeed the soft underbelly to all of the morale that had been swept across this putrid battlefield. The soldiers around her had showered her with attention unlike ever before as soon as Hill 58's excursion was finished and written off as another success on some other officer's quota.

	Unfortunately, Lucia wasn't acutely aware of such realities of the war. Instead, she followed her calibrations. Some of those around her started to whisper or mutter things behind the Captain's back once he left. She had a duty to speak up and defend the one who'd somehow saved her from the spiral downwards into a life without purpose. However, for once, Lucia kept her mouth closed and instead walked over to Michael, with some desperation of calming required in her mind. She knew that he would be the ideal person to approach when her mind was filled with such tragedies: the cavalry charge, the parting from her abusive guardian...It was all starting to trouble her and make her feel like an eerie pressure of truth was being laid down upon her.

	As she got closer, she saw that he was likely focused on the others, which was a change Lucia didn't like as much. Despite the pressing times, Lucia always felt that little bit warmer on the inside whenever the two shared a laugh, she embarrassed him or simply took the second to cross gaze's for a split second. Those were the times to live and die for, of course. And so, she longingly waited for him to be mid-sentence with whichever Sapper there was left to discuss tactics with before she suddenly leapt forward, wrapping her small and tiny arms around him to take him off of his guard. She knew that this was likely the best way to try and subvert everyone's attention away from the recent tragedies, and instead to bring more focus on her and Michael as it was.[/color]

[color=A9FF7D][b]"Mickeeeeey, I need someone to talk to. P-Please?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]She hesitated towards the end, hoping that they would cross gaze's once more, though it was mainly to tease him once more and jokingly give everyone the impression that they were already a couple. Well, it was a bit early to assume it, but at least those predictions could count towards anything she desired. Whilst deep down she felt sad and torn between the events, she kept her smile and tightened the grip around Michael further. In terms of embarrassment, Lucia decided to smile and play the ultimately scandalous sentence towards him, hoping to crack a few laughs and drive everyone's mood upwards before they arrived in Amone.[/color] [color=A9FF7D][b]"Besides, I saw you looking at me when I got into my new uniform, so you can't try to ignore me now!"[/b][/color]

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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 9th - [b]Teasing[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	Jean's face was taken aback as she, the lovely Reyna, looked upon him and embarrassingly called him [i]daring[/i], whilst she herself was also hesitating to mutter the words of it. Truth be-told, Jean's hand-holding endeavour, whilst soft, gentle and sweet to the touch, was still likely very embarrassing to the two of them. It probably didn't help that there were others around them in every direction, who may have potentially seen, especially Diana. It could be catastrophic if Diana saw him potentially flirting or trying to fall in love with other females in the group. If she hadn't of proclaimed her love for him on the day they'd met, things may had become a lot easier down the road between the two, but Jean definitely had a strange nervousness around her. It wasn't that Diana was a bad looking individual, but rather one with a personality that seemed like it would kill the nearest competition that came in sight. Plus, without them actually being a couple, Jean didn't want to subvert others' expectations to manifest some form of false relationship concurrent on that day between both Diana and the Corporal.

	He couldn't help but fluster and smile himself when he saw the genuine reaction she had to offer. It was...amazing. Jean couldn't help but see a strange light in her reddened cheeks when she spoke, embarrassingly teasing him back for the act of hand holding so daringly. Even Jean felt something flutter deep inside as he looked back towards her with a smile of his own. A response that was equally as hysterically joke-worthy and one that only had the intention to return the playful tease she'd spoken to him.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"H-Hey...I ran through bullets for the Platoon but I guess that was more exciting. Why, can't handle a little hand-hold?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As she laughed, Jean laughed too, not noticing that there was a lurking threat amongst them. Diana, like a shark, was preying upon them. If only he'd seen the early warnings and-

	Oh, Diana said something relatively nice that didn't challenge the flirtatious teasing between both the Vinlander and the Francian. It completely took him by surprise, even with her looking up at him and even questioning whether or not he thought she'd act differently. Jean opened his mouth to speak, but found himself halting and stalling, before closing it once more. He didn't want to say that he expected her to murder him in cold blood, driving a bayonet through Jean's stomach and into Reyna to kill both birds with a single blade whilst screaming at the top of her lungs about how if she can't have Jean, no one can. It was a dark thought, but still there was that inner possibility. Instead, he simply let Reyna leave for whatever second she must've needed, continuing to let his legs carry him away.

	Amone seemed to start getting closer. A few piles of rubble and debris of old homes destroyed in the early days of Amone's fighting grounds were passed on their left and right. With every ten or so metres, they started to become more apparent, showing that they were now approaching the entrance towards the defences the Cavalry had foolishly been made to charge. At least there weren't any machine gunners, but were really the 300 lives of horses and riders worth just a few measly automatic gunners? Part of Jean understood the decision, regardless if he agreed or disagreed. After seeing Hill 58's use of machine guns, the unstoppable dictators of the battlefield could cut down armies if there were just a couple. Jean could've imagined that the officers higher up saw the light infantry far more important than some measly expendable and outdated traditional warriors. Jean still hated the fact that someone considered those human lives to be nothing more than expendable. What made it worse was Jean had no clue that the Cavalry Regiment was made up of roughly 250 Darcsen prisoners, as well as 50 non-darcsen prisoners as per a punishment. Maybe one or two of them were not from the cells of the abysses, but if only he knew the true meaning behind their sacrifice, he would've likely turned around, taken his rifle and shot every single officer that stood in his god forsaken, bloody way...[/color]

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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 9th - [b]The Eagle waits in his Nest[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	The approaching autumn wetness was starting to bog down some of the streets and lands outside of the city. If he truly wanted, he could've walked up to the city walls, lined up his optics and spat lead upon all those who came to oppose the city. However, for once this was a man whose expectations were often miscalculated by both those at home and those in his gun-sights. The first few waves of freshly deployed Federation troops had been reported entering the city, meaning that many of them were walking straight into a crossfire section for the Imperial ambushes. It felt so disgruntled to waste such human life so quickly, yet he couldn't exactly complain considering the kill count he had under his helmet. Instead, he simply watched onwards, waiting at the top of the church tower with his portable ragnite heater beside him. If it weren't for the concrete cover above him, he'd have been washed away by the now heavy downpour that plagued the Federation city of Amone.

	He dreamt of a day that the war would end, though it would've been an honour to continue the fight for what he believed in. Unfortunately for him, both his ways of honourable conflict and humanitarianism were both conflicting towards one another. It didn't matter whether he was a famous marksman or not: war didn't let men be men or women be women. Instead, it turned monsters into those of mankind, turning their gunsights against one another until they were all dead. Every. Single. One of them.[/color]

[centre][sub][@Conscripts][@Landaus Five-One][@Bushman501][/sub][/centre]