Victoria crossed her arms and spat on the ground as she concluded her story, ambivalent about having shared it. She felt no shame in her actions, no remorse. She was a product of her environment, had grown up drunken and violent to survive in a world where seemingly everything wanted her dead or at least broken. Her only regret was having fallen for Charles's bullshit. She had been so stupid, getting sucked in by his sweet talk and promises of a better life. By the time she realized nothing had changed he had already disappeared and left her with a child to care for and nothing to lose. But it was still a heavier story than was usually shared between people who had only known each other for less than a day. Hopefully Luke wouldn't be scared off, or if he was he'd remember her lesson. The more people she could keep from following her the better it would be. Already she was starting the see her new squad as her kids, another bunch of little ones to steer away from her lifestyle of scrounging in mud and darkness. 

 [color=#4F97A3]"Don't feel bad for me, mate.[/color] the washed up 18 year old muttered stoically.  [color=#4F97A3]"I did what I had to do to survive, we all do. Your path to survival is different than mine, always remember that. Bright young stud like you could land himself a proper job and a good-looking old lady!"[/color] she said with a smile.  She was glad that his standoffish attitude had softened as he had eased up. [color=#4F97A3]"Just lay off Diana, yeah? She's a good girl, she doesn't deserve to be treated like shit. Save that for officers."[/color] Her small smile melted away when Luke mentioned his "mommy issues", gesturing for him to tell his story. She listened intently, her only interruptions small coughs or muttered curses. She had thought her parents were bad when they tossed her out, at least they had never tried to strangle her to death. There was really nothing she could say, no cheery words or bullshit phrases to spout meaninglessly. How were you supposed to respond to a story about a boy fighting off his deranged mother months after losing his father?

[color=#4F97A3]"Shit."[/color] she finally managed to eke out, really only to try and break the awkward silence that filled the air after Luke told his tale. He was even more similar to her than she thought, at least when it came to the reasons they had choosen this line of work. [color=#4F97A3]"As soon as this war is over, you're leaving the army."[/color] she stated flatly, making it clear that it was an order, not a suggestion. [color=#4F97A3]"You can consider me a new mother, 'n' I'm going to be making sure that you do what's best for you. The military is good only for murderous thugs 'n' losers that can't make it anywhere else. We are not your kind of people, clear?"[/color]

Vicky idly straightened out Luke's uniform as she gave her command, fussing over him like a parent with their child. When he offered to help her settle into his hometown after the war she beamed happily, already imagining herself watching little Elizabeth grow and play somewhere that wasn't a dusty dead end. [color=#4F97A3]"A damned tempting offer, I have to admit. i'll think on it, 'n' i appreciate it either way. even if i don't move in i'll visit, just so I can kick your ass at drinking again!"[/color] Almost as soon as the words left her mouth the Oceanic wrapped the smaller male in a tight hug, holding him silently for a moment before letting go. [color=#4F97A3]"You stay out of trouble now, understand?"[/color]

[b]LATER[/b]

When Jean had informed the squad that they wouldn't be drinking that night she had grumbled quietly to herself, reluctantly putting away her flask. If the Inn staff weren't going to serve her anymore it might be a while until she got a refill so she would have to ration it. The order to sleep in her gear met no resistance however. If they were supposed to be moving out soon it was just good sense to be ready. She went to bed early and woke up before her superior officer, idly munching on a piece of toast as she waited for orders. By now her trademark bandoleers were wrapped around her body again, empty carbine propped up against the table. Leaning back in her seat she let her gaze drift out the window. Her eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of something soaring through the air, legs tensing as she prepared to throw herself under the table to hide from the rain of shrapnel that was surely coming. She wasn't exactly looking for yet more scars. But something was off. She could hear the distant thump of the artillery, but none of the shells seemed to be going off.

Quick as lightning the Oceanic sprinted out in the gray morning light, standing next to Jean and some girl who she didn't recognize. She opened her mouth ask an obvious question but was silenced by a hellish whistling, a horrible, piercing sound that made her like her bones were being grated against each other by some unholy creature. The shell had landed mere feet from them, Victoria getting blasted back into a table and set of chairs with a burst of violent swearing. She grunted as she lifted herself from the ground, covering her mouth and nose with her floppy brimmed hat to try and block some of the choking dust. She was bruised and sore, but not dead. That was a positive. [color=#4F97A3]"Fucking things a dud! Someone out there likes us."[/color] she said with a nervous chuckle. Her gratitude for the good fortune faded as she followed the Corporal's gaze to the "dud" shell, noticing it's weird shape and the warnings of poison on it. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, Victoria loading her rifle almost unconsciously. There was knot of foreboding and fear in her gut, the same one that had been there when she saw the armored car for the first time. War had changed, again. Now it was just a question of how.

The gas escaped it's metal prison and crept towards them,  Victoria standing frozen in fear for a moment until years of experience hunting rats for food and fighting for survival kicked in. The mask hanging next to her bag was hastily slammed down over her face, guessing it's purpose. Jean had seemed to figure it out as well, but the poor civilian was beyond saving. Victoria watched her choke on the airborne toxin and fall, twitching and vomiting. She shook and trembled as if fighting off possession by some malevolent spirit until her soul finally ebbed out of existence. Victoria stared transfixed at the staff member, only to be broken from her trance by the woman giving out another twitch. Was she dead, or was there still some bit of life left in her? It didn't matter. If she was still alive, she was surely wishing she wasn't.

Vicky stepped forward and placed the barrel of her rifle against the girl's head, finger on the trigger. She remembered how when she was a girl she had earned a few pennies helping out on a horse farm, shoveling manure and feeding them hay. One day a colt had tripped and broken it's leg. She had watched it whinny and bray out for it's mother as the rancher approached with his shotgun. She could remember the creature screaming and kicking out as it's master took aim, as if it knew what was coming and was begging to be allowed to try and make a go of things with only three limbs. But the man with the gun knew best, and Victoria was given a meal of stewed horse-flesh that night.

Now it was her turn to extend mercy to a mortally injured creature, her turn to take aim and make sure the bullet traveled straight through. A pull of the trigger and the sound exploded in her ears as the round exploded out the back of the grateful corpse's skull, more blood and brain matter pooling with the filth Catherine had spat up in a puddle of waste. Victoria nearly slipped in it as she sprinted after Jean, leaving a boot-print with each step before jumping straight through the broken window. [color=#4F97A3]"EVERYONE LISTEN TO JEAN!"[/color] she roared, the yell muffled by the life-saving mask. [color=#4F97A3]"PUT YOUR FUCKING MASKS ON IF YOU PLAN ON LIVING PAST TODAY."[/color] She was struggling to keep from trembling and breaking down in front of everyone. The Corporal seemed like he was on the verge of doing just that, and at least one of them needed to be in command of their emotions. [color=#4F97A3]"Hey, buck the fuck up!"[/color] she snarled at the Darscen in a tone that was certainly unsuited for a superior officer but perfect for keeping him grounded like Marathon had asked. The Oceanic smacked the back of the Francian's head to make sure he was listening. Better she get punished for that later than the leader of the squad die now. [color=#4F97A3]"I'm gonna round everyone up. I hope you have some good orders for us when we're all back!"[/color]

The girl was up the stairs almost faster than her mind could register, kicking open doors at random and shouting the same command every time. [color=#4F97A3]"Put your damn masks on and meet Jean downstairs!"[/color] Her father had always said that when in crisis one should work to keep themselves in control. Well, now was certainly a crisis and the Squad Mom was working to make sure her children made it out alive.

[@LetMeDoStuff] [@Jacky]