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In the days and weeks since Victoria first joined the 15th not much had changed. Oh sure the Federation had won the battle for the Amone, slugging it out with the Imps in the streets and blasting them from their hiding places with ragnite. Marathon had gotten himself killed but his death had been avenged, the sniper responsible for gunning him down now nothing more than a corpse buried under rubble. Hell, Vicky had even won herself a promotion thanks to her discovery of the Empire's defense plans. But lance corporal meant nothing more than slightly more responsibility and barely a few more pennies each month to pay for it. She was still stuck in a muddy trench freezing her tits off, praying that the next shelling didn't land too close.

New stripes, same shit.

The morning had seemed especially cold, icy bitterness making it hard to grip a pencil well enough to write let along draw. With no creative outlet Victoria had turned to the ones that were always available. The cigarette in her mouth was the fifth of the day, the beer on the bar counter the third. Some might have said it was too early for drinking but if that was the case how come the pub owners had been willing to sell to her? 

Buying alcohol was a wasteful indulgence when she still had half a flask full of the stuff but it was a luxury she willing to shell out for. The stuff in her personal stash was the last of the brandy she had snatched from the inn in Amone and judging by the taste it was either contaminated by gas or cat piss. The beer she was drinking now was certainly poor quality but at least her stomach would remain more or less intact after breaking the stuff down.

She tore off another piece of the bread she had gotten with her drink, chewing and swallowing out of habit more than actual hunger. Old instincts demanded that she eat whenever there was an opportunity so she could have a store of energy to fall back on when starvation reared its head again, a bit of superstition she would never shake as long as she lived. Victoria was set to grind bits of hard bread between her teeth all day like a particularly violent cow when some complete jackass started banging planks of wood together outside.

[color=4F97A3][i]Oh that's just fucking delightful.[/i][/color]

Was there really not enough noise for these people with the daily bombings? Living right on the edge of a warzone didn't provide enough commotion? Apparently not because the village idiot had apparently decided today was the day for him to perform his "kappie" or whatever he had called it. While he began to babble about animals she did her best to keep cool, aware of the fact that she was the odd one out. The size of the crowd she could see through the window was big enough to mean that this little show was apparently socially acceptable.

Clearly there wasn't a chance of her finishing her breakfast in peace. Victoria slid off of her stool and tossed a few coins onto the counter as recompense before heading to the door, mud caked boots stomping down on the floor. She came out at the tailend of the show, blinking in the harsh light of high noon.

...Wait what? That didn't seem right. But honestly she wouldn't know. She was only really alert late at night or in the early morning, energized by the darkness that all rats thrived in. The waking hours blurred into one long headache. Whatever time it was signalled the end for the showman, the little runt taking his leave and stepping off. Now that she was actually looking at him she could see that he was no villager (jury was still out on the idiot part) but one of her fellow shocktroopers. Lazily done bob, Darcsen hair color, darker skin than any actual Europan, fuck what was his name?

Cienie, that was it. 

Silently Victoria fell in step besides him, a rat moving in concert with one of her own. His destination didn't matter, whatever he ended up doing she could probably lend a hand with. As long as she was able to distract herself from her miserable mental state she'd tolerate it. 

[color=4F97A3]"Did you have a good show?"[/color]  

Her careless draw saw the cigarette fall from her mouth and sputter out in the mud, smoked down to just the butt. Without missing a beat a new one was slipped from its crumpled packet and lit, replacing its fallen brother. 


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[hider=Back Home]
Alex was back home, sitting there half-dressed with a coffee cup in hand and the sun's glare in his face. His wife was off somewhere behind him, no doubt sitting in front of her mirror getting ready for the day. He could picture it without bothering to turn around. Eliza would still be dressed in her nightgown, dragging the ivory comb he had given her through her hair in order to wrangle her light curls into a neat chignon. Her snuffbox was probably open with arms reach, her tobacco habit much more aggressive than his. The silk afternoon dress would be hanging from the wardrobe door, ready for its owner to get in and head out.

[color=Thistle]"Do you have plans for the day?"[/color]

They didn't do very much together now, the pretense of courtship no longer needed ever since they got married. Husband and wife would eat meals together or catch the occasional play but most of their days were spent in pursuits independent of one other. Alex asked really only out of politeness, not actually bothered by what Eliza got up to.

[color=Palevioletred]"Maria and I were planning to take a trip into town, do some shopping."[/color]

Ah, a family day. Good for them. Alex wouldn't have known since he was an only child but it seemed convenient to have someone of a similar age who you could obligate into spending time with you. [color=Thistle]"Give her my love and tell her I'll be sending Arthur's gift along shortly."[/color]

[color=Palevioletred]"We were going to have lunch with William as well."[/color]

The sound of shifting fabric meant that she had turned to look at him. Alex craned his neck and found himself being analyzed, Eliza trying to figure out his reaction. All she got was a long sip of good coffee, the husband who should have been jealous simply uninterested. He knew that she had been sleeping with her childhood friend and by now she knew that he knew. This of course made him a cuckold but he felt no shame.

Why would he? Neither of them had loved the other in the first place and it wasn't like he was restricting himself to their bedroom either.

[color=Thistle]"Let me know if you go anywhere good."[/color]

Eliza nodded, moving the mess of her out of her face to begin the process of ordering it. She really was quite beautiful, with slender features and kind eyes that closed when she smiled. If they had met normally and gone through the process of getting to know one another it was conceivable that Alex would have genuinely made a move at some point. But they hadn't and here they were, assigned to one another by their respective parents and keeping up the façade out of loyalty to their families. 

[color=Palevioletred]"I'll do that."[/color]

She turned back away to face the mirror, Alex taking his cue to return to staring into the sun gormlessly. [color=Palevioletred]"Are you looking forward to your reassignment?"[/color]

The question took him by surprise. He had mentioned the Gallian attaché gig offhandedly a few days ago, expecting Eliza to take as little notice as she usually did when he discussed work. [color=Thistle]"I think so. It'll take some getting used to I imagine but it can't be worse than boarding school was."[/color]
[/hider]








Reality came in the form of an explosion, a falling shell touching down touching down close enough that he could feel the explosion in his bones. Alex toppled out of the chair he had been napping on and barely managed to keep from smacking his face against the muddy wooden planks serving as walkways. A late morning reveille courtesy of the East Europan Imperial Alliance.

Sergeant Schäfer struggled back to his feet, the process made more difficult by the two hundred odd pounds of dog tugging at his pants pocket. Valkur had sat by his master obediently the whole time but Alex being undeniably awake meant that the mastiff's patience had worn thin.  

[color=Thistle]"Yeah I know! Patience dear boy, patience."[/color]

A swat to the snout made Valkur back off, glaring hungrily as his owner fished out a biscuit and tossed it his way. One quick snatch of those bone breaking jaws and the treat was gone, devoured in a single bite. [color=Thistle]"Right. Back to it then."[/color] As of that moment there were no raids to cover or exposed positions to fire upon which meant that Schäfer's time was his own. He would spend it with Valkur in order to strengthen the bond between human and dog. 

He whistled and Valkur followed behind without need of a leash, the pair moving quietly through the winding trenches that made up Plymouth Lane. Winter's bite did little to disturb Alex, warded off by his patterned shawl like a spirit chased away by a talisman. There was a straight shot from the support trenches to the dummy one and the sniper was taking it, curious as whether or not he'd be able to discern the Imperial's plans for the day by watching their movements through his scope. 

It turned out that the enemy was having a lazy day. No trench raiding parties were coming to snip wire or shoot officers but there was a group of Federals about to start up a card game. [color=Thistle]"So, what are we playing?"[/color] According to regulations gambling was strictly forbidden so Alex should have been breaking the session up but he had never really cared for that rule to be quite honest. A few rounds of cards never hurt anyone, not more than a few rounds of drinks anyway. 

[@FalloutJack][@samakama]