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5 yrs ago
Current Honestly I look at how new/young rpers slam down back to back posts and wonder how I even had the energy to do all that years ago.
15 likes
6 yrs ago
Finally back. Looking to finally settle into a thread or DM one.
1 like
8 yrs ago
I want to make a WWII themed thread but I'm writing so much lore for it that I'll be done in a few years. FeelsBadMan
1 like
8 yrs ago
Fallschirmjäger is such a fun word to say.
4 likes
8 yrs ago
The most irritating thing is wanting to RP but the moment you start writing you lose interest. Sad days.
11 likes

Bio

I write WWII related stuff and RP a lot. Dunno when I'm going to make one for here.

Most Recent Posts

Not even a single smoke for his troubles. Great.

So while everyone was busy with their thoughts on their perfection, questions of morality, spiking volleys of tension and overall ruining the... joyous mood he was stuck as an afterthought. Oh well. He supposed it didn't surprise him to heavily given how young they all were and just how much that idealism sunk in.

He remembered it wasn't too long ago when he had expressed his ideals publicly. He had done so in the Federation under the assumption that the democratic powers would have allowed the free speech and splendor of unhindered opinion as he had been bragged to time and time again by locals and recruiters. He also remembered trying to leave that place when people got quite upset at how passionate he had been in his speech and was faced with dodging broken glass and threats of being fed to the law. He's thankful Cassie was there with explosives to bust out and he was thankful that the gang was hiding their identity at the time for a small job. What an idiot he was for believing that the Federation would uphold those wonderful lies at every level. Even so, it had cost him another shred of purity.

He felt his left arm with his right index, sliding his finger across in a curved motion before tapping the end as though he could see the scar there with x-ray vision. He had trailed from beginning to end as though he could relive the motions from beginning to end wrapped up in a wound that would never heal. He fixed his uniform and raised an eyebrow as he heard something drop next to his boots. He listened to the argument with a roll of the eyes after he had already ducked down to look at the noise and smiled from ear to ear. Hallard's. A sweet pack of Hallard's Brimstone Cigarettes. Jackpot!

He put the pack back into his pocket and thanked whatever force was out there that allowed him to have this as a breather. He pushed off of the wall of the trench and sighed internally as things came to a head. Although, in all honestly, Ms. Wagner seemed to be quite the beauty and her strength only came as an attractive distraction. Even for as much as he would have liked to be kind to the man for being his stand in doctor he couldn't help but want to tell him that he deserved what he was getting for speaking out of line like that. He just hand picked her and went straight for accusations. He didn't know what to think of Archibald other than being a bit too naive for his own good and admittedly he liked the man for helping him but he knew very little of him and understood little of his faith. It would just be best to move on. He looked over to Michael who had already went his way and simply returned his attention to the two, giving Michael a wave goodbye before he went his way.


"We should try to have peace. Sleep even. Lets not throw away our lives before we can live them. The faster we end this war the less time we have to spend yelling at each other. Ms. Wagner, I'd like to talk to you as soon as you can manage. Thank you for the help, doctor."
He spoke to Mila and Archibald respectively.

@AtomicNut@Letter Bee

With that the rifleman rolled his shoulder and walked off a bit further from the rest where he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a match. A tight suck, a soft release...

Ah...

The pain just melted away...

He felt like he could think clearly for a moment. He felt as though all they had went through had not been for nothing. Sure, some things were going to stay with him, but for now he just wanted to... relax... relax... Wait.

A thought went through his mind as he took a look at the terrain and the layout of the trench. He thought more about the battle and all that had occurred. It had mostly been bullet rain, hadn't it? Where was the artillery? Artillery... artillery...

"It is our duty, to the Federation and to humanity itself, to do whatever it takes to end the miserable war and cripple the bastards that identify as Imperials. Their dictatorship and outdated ideologies are to be destroyed by us, by you! Over this trench lies Hill 58, the most important sector of the Garnian Salient. For days, and weeks, on end, artillery pieces atop of this hill have shelled us relentlessly and have managed to garner the range to fire into the town this Salient aims to protect. We have been tasked by our highest commanders to go forth and take this hill out of their grasp and to secure it immediately. This is a high-priority operation, thus we will be dealing with it as such."


His eyes wandered. The trench appeared to be empty. The field appeared to be empty. Enough artillery to bring a town to its knees yet where was it? This... this wasn't right. Franz marched back to Mila as soon as he was able, stopping her wherever she may have been.


"Wagner? I think we have a problem. We were told this hill was able to bombard a city and cripple it but where is all the artillery we were supposed to capture? I'm a little late because of my wound but has the order been given to fortify in case of a shelling?"
He took his cigarette out of his mouth, tapping it to allow some of the build up of ashes dust off to the side.
"Good to see you're up to the front with us. I never did catch your name." Franz took his hand from the wound, droning a hum to himself as he flexed his hand. There was wincing as he rolled his shoulder and readjusted his position. "I must not have applied the supplies correctly. It's still bleeding too much. It wouldn't be too much to ask for a cigarette? I've misplaced my pack."

Although he sounded calm, the man was in pain. He was in a great deal of it but there was only so much they could do about it now. Maybe some drink but a cigarette would have done him just fine... the smoke it... helped him think. It helped him relax as he explained his situation to the other arriving soldier.

"Bullet wound. It went in and out clean, you just need to close the wound." He ruffled his hair a bit to get the dirt out,leaning away from his temporary doctor so they could work without getting it all over him or the wound. He addressed them both, wincing as the makeshift medic worked and caused him to grit his teeth for a moment.

"I am Franz. We didn't have a chance to talk with our superior giving the order to charge. I'm glad to see you've both made it here safely. I must ponder, however, why help a Darscen like me? Not that I'm complaining."

There was some minor peace to be had, the feeling of not being abandoned being more than he was honestly expecting. There was so much hostility against his person and his people that he wouldn't have been surprised if more people here turned up to be anti-darscen. The imperial blood also served as its own problem. From the right angle any man could tell he was strongly blooded in Imperial genes although he had little worry of that right now. Neither of these two appeared to have any major bias against him for the moment.

@Conscripts@Letter Bee
Covering fire, sprinting, shifting, and keeping within the range of the squad. The blood splattered against wood and metal with dives in and out of the trench. Drinking from the cup of blood their enemy turned around to pitch their walls. Round after round. Bolt after bolt. There was a scream then a silence. There was a stream of tears and then dried salt. Forward. Forward. Forward.

Franz had always admired the empire. From his youth he found them to be the most intriguing and home feeling collective of states to have ever been created. The federation only found strength in cooperation and compromises all while feeding its people the promise of freedom. The Federation was no more than a puppet master riding out its promises. In the end governments had to control their people by any means necessary. The way of the world was to lead or follow. Some people took that as a horrid thing. However, Franz did not. Order was necessary. Checking of powers high and low mandatory.

He accepted such an order when he joined the gang that Markus had set up. He accepted that when he saw the masses following their own orders. He accepted it when he took up arms and swore his oath. No man could take the truth from him. Life simply functioned well under structure and as much as his neighbors tried to sugar coat it there was no denying that even they were effectively powerless to government. He appreciated that the empire was blunt in how it structured itself. He appreciated that despite this singular emperor happiness could still be obtained. There was no need to use propaganda to obtain life’s true meaning. That was the poetry of collective obsession and sacrifice. It was not to be for the individual. It was to be for the collective and especially the state so that in the future, on the darkest of days, the empire could use its strength to keep that dream alive.

That’s… why it hurt…

That’s why… all of it just… hurt…

Had he not lived a rougher life, perhaps it would have hurt far more. Maybe it could have crippled him, but here he only felt so much.

He didn’t let it shake himself, but even blowing a hole into yet another imperial to prevent a squad mate from dying he had to wonder just how much his friends would understand his fight. He had to wonder just how awful things were.

He had lost track of his own kill count... Well, that wasn't quite true. He knew the count but he didn't want to linger on it at the moment. All he knew was that the squad was safe and in the corner while they had a moment of rest he held the hand of an imperial who gasped with fingers gliding across the broken structure. Screams of pain were silenced by tightly constrained lungs trying to grab something- anything for fuel. Blood poured from the abdomen, chest, and leg. The wounds were bad and she appeared to be lost. The pink hair disheveled with blood crawling out of the corners of her lips as she asked Franz a simple question.


“Am I going to die?”

“Yes.”

“I-I don’t- want- to!” Another gagged gasp.

“I know.”

“Did… I do… The empire… proud?”

“Yes… Your family too...”

“Will they remember...”

“...I will remember you...”

“...”

“...”

Her arm went limp as he held her in his arms. The upward cress of her corners drooping to a neutral poise with mouth still and barren. Even in the chaos of the noise and the blood splattered trenches he still found sanity left in him. The heave loosened his grip from the previously pressing rib cage. Gentle strands of hair flowed into the dust as blood dried and eyes glazed. Among her own body, how many more who were simply doing their jobs would suffer the same fate?

Middleton angered him when he had decapitated that poor imperial. Death was to come to all but by beheading? What a heartless fool! Still… He couldn’t… find his burning passion for the moment. Even if the moment was to be brief he needed to finish. He laid her on her back. There was a deep breath, the man standing after reading her tag and studying her expressionless face. He would remember. It was a curse he was to bare but there were just some things that ideologies didn’t cover.

You could tell a man that the other was the enemy. Us versus them. However, he knew already that this was a kill he couldn’t forget. He doubted that those who lived in the trench could ever forget theirs. He knew lots of feds would just trample on corpses and laugh at the fallen, but he would give them more respect than that. He might have been on the other side but it didn’t mean he couldn’t give them some compassion even in their dead or dying state.

He stepped to the woman’s side, picking her up as though she were a bride and held her close as he walked near the squad, throwing himself over into potential gunfire and leaving a trail of blood as he grunted and walked out of position. Out in the middle of danger he set the woman down so that she could face the changing of the light with her helmet latched on tight.

He felt like he could breathe, if only for a moment. He fell to his side, coughing hard as the round she put in him began to make him feel dizzy. He groaned, staggering to his feet and walking back to the trench. He gave one last look to the Imperial who reminded him of so much and spoke of all that he had taken away from her. He would have to take so much more from so many others. But for now he said goodbye to the one who would stay in his mind at night.


“Goodbye, Melanie.” He grunted, staggering to the trench and falling in with the wound in his chest bothering him immensely. His vision blurred. He felt something slide across his cheeks… Tears?

He pressed against the wound, holding back against trench as he looked over to his team and just watched them gather. They had made it. That girl was here too… the one told to kill anyone on the run back. The pain was growing with time, audible groans oozing from his teeth as he pulled out what little medical supplies he had as well as what he took off Melanie to, at least, prevent bleeding to death. Once more he was hesitant to ask his squad for help. He knew none of them and they were all busy with each other. It seemed fitting to himself that he would simply watch over them even in his… less than optimal state. He wasn’t sure what to feel, honestly. On one hand he had just killed people who were doing their job as he was and on the other he would never know them. He would never get to get old and see them again. He would never know who they were or where they came from. He would never know if any of them had any regrets or if he could have eased their pain in some way as they leaked their blood onto the world. He simply stopped them in their tracks, making sure to either wound for capture or instant death. He had dumped three rounds into that girl just because she landed on in him. In his rage he hurt her more than he intended and for that, he realized, the tears kept coming.

The reaper calls. He calls and he calls. The unfortunate man answers.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in…breathe…

Eyelids closed as he exhaled, his tired state ripping at him with the sounds of their deaths echoing in his head over and over. Was it bad that he thought war, while an awful experience, was a good thing? It was like a greater good that he couldn’t explain to other people without sounding incredibly apathetic. It was an art where many could claim glory and others would find death. It was the balancing act for when things got out of wack. For as much as it was a loss of those who you loved it was the ultimate sacrifice and dedication to the powers for ‘whom thou bend thine knee.’ It was a dance where all things became real and all reality became fiction. A dance in the fall with leaves. Thousands and thousands of leaves floating to the ground with the dancer dancing their dance. Round and round they go until they dance no more.

He blinked rapidly, waking up before he would become one of the thousands himself. He needed to keep awake. The peace could only last so long. He was hardly in the shape to talk to anyone and the butt of his rifle slammed into the side of a clown of a soldier who made teasing comments of his relation to the girl leaning against the rock. With that man now out of his hair, he pulled his helmet a little further down and thought. At least Jean was safe. At least the squad was safe. He blinked more rapidly, sliding a little more down as he felt his wound and grit his teeth. He pat his pockets, sighing as he misplaced his cigarettes. He groaned, an audible gargle from a bit of blood as he sat up straight and asked a question to anyone caring to offer.


“Anyone have a smoke?”

He laughed to himself, thinking about the old gang.




“You need more than a fucking smoke, Franz. The hell did Barri do to your arm?”

“Nothing too serious.”

“Fuck that. Where is that loud mouth anyway?”

“Down the river, with his girl.”

“We’ll see how much longer. You want the honors?”

“Nah. I don’t kill people. That’s your job.”

“Well yours isn’t to get ganged up on when I’m not looking. These doctor’s visits aren’t going to get any god damn cheaper.”

“We can always rob another ‘class-a rude boy’ like Cassie talks about.”

“Yeah and then Jack will spend another week in a cell because the dumbass doesn’t know what the hell ‘spring from the clap’ means.”

There would be a groan from Franz as Markus picked him up, lighting a cigarette and putting it in his mouth before patting his back.

“Alright, Franz. Don’t drop it.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything for my favorite boy.”




He pressed the end of the wound up against the wall a bit harder, palm of hand clamping against the entry point. What a day.

Franz had perhaps spent too much time thinking on when to introduce himself yet he couldn’t help but prepare himself mentally as he thought of what he had to in order to survive. Life or death he would push forward. The words of the lieutenant simply let him know that death was knocking at the door. It rapped with fury and screeched the names of so very many. It was true that he had never taken a life but he was a thug who wasn’t unfamiliar to making someone bleed. Still, this was different. Now he was being prepared to leave and in this time he thought of the only thing that could stir his blood more than anything else. He thought of that miserable Gallian who dared infect his mother. He thought of that town of depravity that dared call itself civil. He thought of his blood and of his impurity. He would fight in this war even if it meant fighting that great empire he admired. He had found himself on what he might have considered the wrong side were it not for the people he cared for. What few friends he had lived in the Federation. If not for anyone else, he had to do it for them. The end of the war would mean the beginning of a new dawn and he had every intention of living to see it come.

He fixed his bayonet, the remark about Imperials being bastards immediately burned his insides further, his teeth clenching as memories of being pushed around surged. While possibly unintentional, the lieutenant had sparked blood lust within the body of that young man. He had half a mind to fire at his officer as he finished but instead redirected his energy to the front. He turned for a brief moment to the side to check his surroundings as he vaulted over the ladder and felt his heart sink for an instance. Blood. The spray and gore of rapid fire tearing and ending the lives who had just moved to do his job. His eyes dilated as something ungodly opened inside of him. It was a moment when he truly realized where he was. This wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought war was beyond the propaganda. There was absolutely no hesitation to end them. Those poor souls were extinguished as soon as they were seen like a response team to a fire just beginning. There wasn’t even so much as an attempt to preserve their lives from his view. In that state of blood lust all he could register was that they had just killed people who would never see their homes again. As much as he adored that empire it sunk in deep that they were the enemy. They would not hesitate to do the same to him.

“If you see those fucks come at you just hit the god damn dirt with everything you’ve got. You bolt your ass to safety and take them out. You gotta look out for yourself, Franz. Nobody else will because the moment all hell breaks loose all people are going to do is look out for themselves. So fuck em, if being alive means you gotta do the same then all for it. Just come back alive.”

Franz clutched his rifle, roaring with seething rage as he turned to face the enemy and pressed forward harder than he had ever done in boot camp. He felt invincible, like nothing could hurt him from his immense emotion. The deaths of those around him only fueled that fire to avoid what he could and take down what he could see. Something triggered yet inside of him. He checked behind him as he broke rank to race ahead, seeing his squad leader lagging behind. As much as he believed he could break through with caution he was still rather aware of what would happen if Jean died. At this rate he was a sitting duck and a man had died trying to push him along. In the end Jean was more important than he. Jean could lead people, Franz had no officer training and as such was incapable of using tactics to their advantage. He noticed something that only drove him to this task further. Darscen. He was just like him. He had realized it earlier but deep within now that everything was breaking apart did it strike him as a duty beyond belief to keep one of his kind alive. Were it not for other Darscen such as Markus he would have given up. He would be damned if he let one of the precious few be allowed to join the fallen.

@LetMeDoStuff

Dashing to the lance corporal he took in heavy breaths, feeling a bullet graze his arm as he stopped in his tracks to grab the man and practically screamed in his ear as he tugged him along. “Corporal! Get your ass moving! You want the rest of your squad to drop like him? Then let’s go! We need you and we need you right fucking now!” Franz hoped that would be enough to get this man pushing forward, keeping to his side and watching the gun fire. In his head he screamed the same thing, his mind a one track mind as he maneuvered to the objective. “It will not be me! It will not be my squad!”

The world had turned into a cesspit of death and destruction with the perversion of man twisting the fabric of reality itself. Teeth grit together as he thought of the mess he lived in. The murder, theft, abuse of the common man, exploitation of all things without a government badge. Here they were all equally monsters capable of tearing through those too weak to take life. There was no longer complex personalities and the understanding that things could be negotiated. Now there was simply predator and prey.

All the while that he tried to get his lead to press on he checked the rest of the squad briefly, roaring encouragement in his fueled state. “Our leader will see us through! Don't forget what you fight for!” He felt his blood slamming into his brain, adrenaline rush pulsing through his body as they dragged through the mud and rain. He was a stark contrast to the quiet man from earlier. Where before he had simply listened to the storm now he sought to fly straight into it. Beneath all of that desire for death he hoped that this battle would be swift. He clenched his teeth, squinting slightly as the light wound began to feel its way around his arm. The damage, at least, kept his fear of death suppressed underneath layers of anger and adrenaline.

He watched Daniel race past them slowing down briefly to shout before watching a bullet hit the ground right in front of him. In an odd way that man just prevented him from taking another hit but it wouldn’t deter him. He simply pressed on, yelling once in an attempt to draw him back. “Your squad!” He didn’t have time to worry about some red head charging straight into death when the rest of the squad was still in plenty danger and in a way he had no right to even begin to criticize him because he was just about to do the same. In truth they needed to get to get out of the hell storm as soon as possible but what then? If they arrived scattered then would they still be organized? Or would they pause to regroup and get mowed down by a shocktrooper waiting in ambush? Ideally they would stay spread enough to avoid making the squad a pile of gore. All he knew was that the moment they hit they had to do it at least partly coordinated. They beat it into them enough that the squad moves as a unit. For now he would leave it be.

@Ithradine

Ears began to feel irritation at all the noise, but it would be alright. Of the group it seemed that Michael had drifted further back and for a brief moment he screamed out his rank, waving him closer as he returned to trying to keep Jean and himself alive. He didn’t know how he was going to make it or even his squad for that matter but he didn’t waste time worrying. He just kept moving, the only thing that kept him alive before. He had to keep moving, waiting for Jean to tell him what to do as he prepared himself for the tidal wave.


@Conscripts

Franz moved at the order, tucking his helmet down to proper position before quickly marching to the front. There was no hesitation. There was only knowing that this may be the last day he ever breathes air. His heart pounded, giving himself a bit of surprise in anticipation of the main event. He kept in formation but immediately took cover in the trench once it was available. The silence was unnerving, this darkness was surely to be awoken by the light of explosives and gun fire. He did a weapon check, a brief maintenance before wiping off the water that had collected upon the rifle and peeked over the safety of the trench briefly to check for any movement before ducking back down and checking for his bayonet. Thoughts raced as he shuffled in his space and felt his emotions bubbling. Thoughts of the past.




"War? Is that what you want?"

"I'm going back. That's it."

"So what? You want me to wait here while you go out there and get killed? Use your head, Franz. They're going to the grinder and you want to be the next on the chopping block? Get the hell out of the army before that happens!"

"What else am I supposed to do? Sit around waiting to find someone that will never show up? I've tried and tried but nobody has seen her. I need to do something other than get spit on in the streets."

"And the best thing you could do is go die for the fucking Feds? The same ones that told us we'd be better in a ditch?"

"It pays. The army is nothing if not consistent with payment regardless of hair color."

"Yeah, job security isn't going to matter when you're meters in the ground. I can't believe we're even having this conversation. You want me to keep looking for this bit-"

A solid strike to the cheek. It caused the first silence of that mid day conversation and it did so with the other man holding his jaw for the moment before throwing Franz over the table and diving after. It was a struggle, both men grunting and groaning as fist and words hit with such ferocity that furniture nearly gave way under the pressure of their battle. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of struggling with Franz finally being thrown against the rotten wood stairs and grabbed by his collar.

They stared at each other, heaving and sweating with the sound of rain tapping the glass. The power went out. Lights turned dim.

It wasn't long after that they sat quietly by the campfire burning damaged magazines and newspapers, sharing a moment with warm coffee and a blanket to cover them. They held neutral expressions with battered skin.

"You know, sarge is going to kill me once he sees my uniform."

"Just see Veronica before you leave. She's laundered equipment before I'm sure she'll know how to fix it up or at least give you a new one."

"How did you meet her anyway?"

"Veronica? We were just sitting at the pool enjoying the day and I just decided to talk to her. I looked at her she looked at me and it just kind of happened. Just a couple of Darscens trying to get by. Course, she dyed her hair light blue. I always hated that shit. Sure a coat of new paint means you get treated better, but it's disgusting that we need to change who and what we are to even be accepted. To hell with that. I'm staying Darscen even if it kills me."

"You're a thug on the street, I'm pretty sure it will kill you at some point."

"Not as fast as some pretentious fuck of a lieutenant telling me to throw my body at a line of rifles. You hear about that fucking poster boy? What a god damn joke. He wouldn't last a week in the slums."

It got a laugh out of Franz, smiling as he responded to Markus "True. Still, it pays."

"With all that money you get I think about investing into a new apartment but then I remember that staying in isolation like this is the best way to be. Sure it's not what I'd call paradise but a couple Darscen sympathizers isn't going to change the fact that the world is filled with its biased selections. At least here we're a den of our own kind. That's better than any luxury suite."

"That's kind of a lie isn't it? I know you'd rather have that sweet chicken pulled buffet."

"Oh fuck yeah I would, but that's besides the point. Good food only carries you so far. I'm an idealist, just like you. I'm gonna die in a few decades so I might as well go out doing what I love and being who I am. Maybe I'll build up a family in the meantime."

"Veronica?"

"Relax, professor. She's just a squeeze. I'd like to think I have higher standards."

"I don't think she'd appreciate hearing that."

"We don't exactly have the best chemistry but it's better than being a punk ass virgin like you. She feels the same in that way."

"Always did have a way with words."

"Glad you agree. Still, I think it's time you gave up on that Amber shit. She's gone, man. You need to find someone else."

Silence. The fire burned, ripping away at the remnants of the trash as Franz stood and grabbed his letters, looking at them and then the fire before putting them back. He took the old phone book instead, chucking the behemoth into the pit before taking his part of the covers again.

"You're hopeless, Franz... Still, you're lucky you're my best friend... I'll keep looking for her. Just don't fucking die... alright?"




He was in something of a trance for a moment, gripping at his shoulder as though the blankets were there until he left his memories, his ear still placed against the structure as he listened and waited. He thanked Veronica quietly. Even if it wasn't right to work with an insider like that he didn't mind it personally. She'd never gotten caught as far as he knew and it saved him a week in the hole. This uniform felt better too, the lines weren't as irritating and it had something of a soft comfy stretch to it. It was better than the stiff and hastily made uniform they gave him at first. He took a moment to appreciate it, knowing that she picked it out just for him.

He would still need to talk with his squad eventually, but for now he settled for just staying still and listening for a shift. Waiting for the order as he remembered Markus' words.


He thought about the letter in silence. He thought about her face and he thought about the past he left behind. He thought of the training he endured and he thought of the officer who spoke aloud with words that penetrated little. Still, he got the basics. Call the man lieutenant, be back in two hours for the lethal theatrics, gamble your life away. Easy enough.

At the very least the temperature was colder than he expected. Even as a child he loved the feel of winter and rain. Maybe it was just his blood, but nothing was better than laying down on a cold rainy day. Well, assuming he wasn’t told to work the house anyway.

After the crowd dispersed Franz marched his way to the side, not particularly focused on making friends at the moment as he thought of what to make today. A flower? Maybe a dog? Amber? A mental sigh seemed appropriate. He didn’t want to snub the platoon but his spirits were low and as it was it was gradually being improved by the rain. He watched the rain pour, taking in every small splash and every bit of mud spread by boots marching by. Boots marched by without any regard of what they were stepping on. Sure, it was just rain in the mud, but the boundaries of that comparison to life being thrown away with people moving on made him wonder just how many lives would be forgotten. The propaganda was already in. The loser would surely be ill remembered if at all, but that was the nature of end war conditions. Even such a thought like that made him think of his dark hair and feel that something about that Darscen story was wrong.

He took his mind off such things for now, simply smiling at the other soldiers as he watched them in silence, wondering just how he could help make their lives a bit better during the- show as the lieutenant put it.
If it gets approved then I'll come back and reformat everything at a later date. I've been craving some VC rp ever since I've gotten back into the VC series (having played 1 and still playing 4) so maybe this will fill that craving. Good luck regardless.

I kept things "brief" to get down the gist of the character So I hope it works just fine.

I have decided to shut down the thread.

While I place the blame on myself I did not find that the activity was enough to really keep my own interest as I continued to work on all things. As it is, despite dming before I feel like I've failed in that regard and I apologize to the crew, but mostly radio silence in the discord isn't quite what I was hoping for. I hope you all find an RP that you like as I move to close this RP down. Maybe I'll try this again in the future when it is all fleshed out, but for now I will leave it as an unfinished and canceled project.
Im dropping out since there doesnt seem to be any progress made.


Fact is, there wasn't a lot of communication in the discord to begin with. There was little to no discussion and no questions being asked about anything while I worked on the thread. When I did post up a bit of info and even provided a channel for submitting characters there was essentially radio silence. Because of this, I just went ahead and planned to just info dump when it was all ready.

I respect your decision and I take the fault for not updating with every bit of progress made and for probably mismanaging the time I spent on extras in the world building process and trying to set up the thread with information that isn't necessarily relevant to the rper. All in all, if you choose to go then I wish you luck in finding a thread that will provide you better than I have.
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