[center][h1][color=f7941d][b]ISAAC[/b][/color] & [i][b][color=ed1c24]Britta[/color][/b][/i][/h1][/center]

The fact is, even in the darkest of times, someone had to step up and be the emotional support in a situation where none could otherwise be found.  Neither Isaac nor Britta really wanted to be here like this, walking through ditches in miserable cold while dancing between potential atrocities of war.  Between the one who never wanted to be here (Isaac) and the one who believed but mainly to protect her family and way of life (Britta), there would always be a general distaste for how things were.  Though their opinions differed on matters, they both agreed that it had to be done, and so they found themselves fighting this war so that the person to their left or right - so to speak - lived through it.  Britta was the more optimistic of the two, but her commitment was one of necessity, not enthusiasm, and that was why she had always sympathized with Isaac, whose recruitment was less than ideal.  Isaac was, of course, often in the state of 'Well, they say I have to be here, so I may as well do some good.', and so that was what they were here for: To save lives on the battlefield by keeping the enemy at bay.

Alas, they could not break through that impenetrable wall that was Jean.  Not really.  Jean was always depressed, and as well he had the right and reason to be, but it only worried them that one day, they were going to find him doing something terrible, like walking into No Man's Land with his arms outstretched, as though to say 'Here I am.  I am ready.'.  There...had been some bad times, obviously, in the war...and some had crumbled under the pressure.  Isaac often said that, in spite of it all, the pressure on Jean would turn him into a diamond, and Britta hoped so too.  So far, no trouble yet.  Nothing that they were aware of, anyway.  What their Darcsen friend had said, though, was surprisingly candid, although he played it off as a joke.  Jean's perception of the two aside, Isaac seemed surprised and Britta put a hand to her face to stifle a brief and possibly unwanted snort.

[color=ed1c24][b]"Well, we don't quite do [i]that[/i] far..."[/b][/color]

[color=f7941d]"I mean, I could ask around, but to set something up, I mean...there's Rikes."[/color]

[b][color=ed1c24]"Definitely not what I meant."[/color][/b]

[color=f7941d]"I know, but he's a good boy."[/color]

The dogs of the military - the real ones, not the people - were all task hounds, trained to do their job and how to foil an enemy, but really what they did [i]without[/i] the training was act as walking morale boosts.  That's why it was important to share.  There was this creature that, while aware of everything going on around it, only marginally understood the horror in comparison to others.  It only knew that you were unhappy, and if it was disposed to, what it wanted was to make you feel better.  Still, Jean didn't have anything he wanted or, in fact, confess any sort of particular need to get through the day.  Well...his unusual request was probably somewhat genuine, and really they wondered how it was that he hadn't attracted anyone when people who weren't brass or against Darcsen found him charming.  Well, be that as it may, the partnership offer was also shot down.  Jean was a poet, and what he wanted was to be so, not to run a store.  It was understandable, and to each their own...as long as he stayed sane, somehow.

The time to get underway with the mission, and while Isaac and Britta were both made some last-minute checks on their equipment, the others were taking the wound packs of barbed wire.  As a result, you could take this scene the group grimly preparing for a mission, or in another light...it might've looked like two machine gunners forcing the others to work at gunpoint.  Isaac immediately pushed the thought away, not liking the image.  He and Britta had had...unusual thoughts, disturbing imagery in the form of brief hallucination and dreams.  It wasn't anything wrong with their eyes.  It was just...you don't kill as many people as you do at the end of a gun barrel without feeling something.  They'd been on both ends of these things, luckily not killed and having [i]properly[/i] killed a fair amount.  Putting yourself in the shoes of the enemy wasn't hard when you had something like this going on.  It had eased on down, since they hadn't had to shoot as many people here as in Amone, but it was still...you know...there.  You had to tense for it, ignore it, see things through.  Your squadmates depended on that.

What made them pause after a bit was [i]not[/i] the thought of what might happen in the heat of the moment.  They did what many did in this scenario.  The minds would disassociate from the here and the now, the world would fade away, and only the necessity to open fire and reload would remain, with them bearing witness to it all and having it linger thereafter.  No, what made both of the Gunners look up from their work was the conversation happening.  Jean went to check upon Lubna and Senja - two soldiers that they admitted they didn't know very well - and in turn Lubna began to check up on Jean instead, noticing what Isaac and Britta knew for a long time: He was in a bad way, and there was very little that could be done, sometimes, to check it.  Lubna confronted him, and Jean's voice seemed to crack, or his attitude seemed a kind of different for a second.  It seemed like he wouldn't be able to hold himself together, right then, but Senja also came over - probably noticing this, as well - and offered a blessing to their mission.  This seemed to help, as Jean agreed, and the two Gunners rested weapons on their shoulders for a moment.  Britta smiled at Senja, appreciative of what she was doing.  Out of Jean's view, Isaac looked her way and gave Senja a nod, mouthing [color=f7941d][i]'Thank you.'[/i][/color].  He needed it.

In a few moments, they would be climbing up into No Man's Land.  But for now, let there be a little peace of mind.