@Daydreamz still with us?
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Accepted!
@Liv sure!
I hope everything is ok :(
In hindsight, he should have seen this coming.
As a young man, Isam had thrown himself into his work. When he joined the Afghan Armed Forces, he was nothing but a farm boy, stricken with poverty and misfortune. Some things didn't change. He was a hard worker, and that's what gained him attention from his officers. He didn't have a social life to distract him: no family, no lady at home, no kids. When the other men went into town to drink and screw around with escorts, Isam was busy at work. It was a coping mechanism.
He never really noticed his lack of desire towards the women that often threw themselves at his unit, knowing that they would have money to pay for their services. Others did, but they probably figured it went along with his reclusive personality. A few years in, Isam sported the title Second Lieutenant. Shortly after his promotion, he met Amid.
Amid was a Captain, and possibly just as broken as him. They bonded over their shared past: a home town that was destroyed by evil, greedy men; a childhood stolen. If Isam was smart, he would have ignored the feeling of hope Amid instilled in him. But each time they spoke, the man tugged at his heart more and more. At least the feeling was mutual.
They kept their growing relationship under wraps for three years. They were both well liked, valued members of the unit. Their men didn't want to believe the rumors. However, that ended when Amid punished one particularly disruptive private. The new recruit was defiant, and sought to discredit the Captain. He was looking for dirt on Amid when he stumbled upon them, and quickly went to report their crime.
The men were outraged. How could they do this? How could they defy their beliefs? It was startling how quickly the unit turned on them. Amid tried to regain control, but he was no longer their Captain in their eyes. They were beaten on the spot, then bound, dragged out into the blazing desert, and beaten some more. Isam couldn't remember most of it. He remembered pain, the scorching dirt on his skin, and the pleas of Amid as the life was torn from him. If Isam hadn't have lost consciousness, they probably would have shot him too.
The next thing he knew, he awoke in a tent. A white man he didn't recognize stood over him, speaking to another. Isam spoke good English, as he had served as a translator for his unit. They were discussing what to do with him. Should they take him back to his own people? Should they take him to the nearest town? They assumed that he and his partner had been ambushed by insurgents. When Isam was able to speak, he protested being taken back, but refused to say why. He offered a deal: he would be their translator if they would let him live. His loyalty to his own people was broken when they killed the one person he loved.
The mercenaries had agreed to this deal, and over time, Isam proved his worth. They were amazed by his uncanny ability to pick up any weapon and use it like it was an extension of his own arm. After a few months, it was suggested that he go to Camp Sunshine to be properly initiated into the Sundown Company, whom they worked for. It didn't sound like a bad idea; maybe even a second chance.
That was how Isam found himself on a rusted out bus in the middle of the jungle. He remained silent throughout the trip, and when they unloaded, he quietly listened to the man named Joe speak. Once the crowd around the bulletin had dispersed, he approached, found his tent, and headed that way.
Isam didn't have much. His duffel bag contained a couple changes of clothes, a comb, toothbrush, and a few other essentials. All of his worldly belongings. He approached tent A and shoved the canvas flap aside to step in. There was another man there, whom he silently nodded to, and then tossed his bag down on the nearest cot.
Edited link
Chapter 1
The road wasn't an easy drive. Each bump and pothole sent the old, rusted out bus rocking and shaking, tossing the passengers about. Each person was jammed together on pleather seats that looked like a wild cat had gotten a hold of them, holding their allotted belongings in their laps, being tossed against one another every five or so seconds. There was no air conditioning, and the drive was three hours. Not much was said. Not much could be said. The guttural roars of the bus's engine made sure to drown out any other sound.
Sasha once believed that hell was a makeshift medical tent in the middle of a battlefield, the cries of dying soldiers surrounding him, his own, blinding pain. Now, he knew better. Hell was a screaming metal death trap of a bus rolling at 15 miles an hour through a jungle with humidity so high it should be raining. The Russian was pink in the face and glistening, clearly not used to the heat that Venezuela had to offer. After three agonizing hours, he would have given his other arm to get off that damn bus. He shifted his duffel bag uncomfortably in his lap for the millionth time. They were finally approaching a clearing, and a wooden sign along the so called "road" read Camp Sunshine. He breathed a sigh of relief. Finally.
When the bus came to a stop and the doors opened, the campers piled off eagerly. Sasha stepped out to feel fresh air on his face, and possibly a dozen mosquitoes biting him all at once. They gathered into a group around a man wearing old army BDUs. As the last person stepped off the bus, the man blew a whistle sharply to gain their full attention.
"Attention campers! I am Joe, and I am your head camp councilor here at Camp Sunshine. For the next ten weeks, you will follow my every command. I will not command you wrong; if you die here at camp, it is because you did not follow my orders." He spoke in a loud, clear voice, akin to a drill sergeant Sasha remembered from boot camp.
"Behind me is the camp bulletin board, where updates will be posted regularly. Here you can find your tent assignments and the camp rules. Camp Sunshine has three rules: Don't murder other campers, don't die, and don't try to run away from Camp Sunshine. Today will be your first and only free day; camp activities will begin tomorrow at oh five hundred. You are dismissed!"
With that, Joe turned, showing off the rifle strapped to his back as he walked away. Sasha thought he seemed a bit intense, but that wasn't really his business, he supposed. He approached the bulletin board to see which tent he would be in. There was a distressed looking map of the camp printed next to the tent listings, showing where his new home for the summer will be. With that, Sasha picked up his duffel bag and headed that way.
@Daydreamz I'm gonna move Kiran to tent C to even out the numbers so we can go ahead and start. Hopefully 3 more people will pop in soon
The OOC is up if you wanna apply. We only have three spots left
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