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Luke Godfrey


A small smirk rested on Luke’s face, surprisingly enjoying his talk with Victoria. It was odd really, it was clear most of the team didn’t particularly enjoy his company, so why did she? She still seems to treat him as if he were a child sometimes, but he didn’t mind. It was better than getting slapped or barked at like usual so he couldn’t complain. At least he knew he could count on someone to watch his back, or at least send his letter back home to his family. After some more small chit-chat Jeans voice reached his ears and pulled his attention towards his superior as he announced a quick briefing. A small sigh escaped him before rising to his feet with a grin aimed at his companion. “Looks like it’s time to get the ball rollin,” he said before moving towards Jean and listening to his short briefing, resting his rifle on his shoulder with a frown. He knew this scouting mission was important, but honestly it sounded like a pain having to write everything down. He was never good at paying attention in school, one of the reasons he left to go work instead.

Once the briefing was over Luke rolled his shoulders and let a small smirk roll onto his face, a small bit of excitement rising in his chest. Finally, he was getting out of this damn camp. With a little pep in his step he moved with his team towards the exit of the camp before being stopped by a man. Baker was his name if he remembered correctly, having heard his name popping up a few times from a few soldiers he hung around in camp. He didn’t look all that impressive, but it didn’t matter at this point. No use getting to know him if he’s not connected to him and his goals. At least he made an attempt to wish them luck before they started to head out. As he passed him though he glanced over to him and the sentries with a grin. “See ya later boys, we’ll try to bring back some Imp souvenirs,” he chuckled before finally heading out into No mans Land. He managed to hear a few quiet chuckles from the soldiers before they were too far to hear.




“God, what a shithole,” he muttered quietly as he moved along the ruined city streets, his eyes scanning every inch of their surroundings. It’s felt like hours since they’ve been out here scouting the ruined city and yet it feels like they haven’t gotten that far from the camp. Silently though as he looked around the destruction that surrounded them all he couldn’t help but feel impressed. He could only imagine this place was once an impressive sight to see, yet everything around them was completely destroyed. Homes, families, so many lives taken away. It was sad to think about, but Luke honestly wanted to know what type of weapons caused all this. He even wished he could have seen them in action. First it was the slaughter of the cavalry outside the city, then the armored trucks, the gas and now all of this. Such destructive weaponry interested Luke. Maybe one day he’ll get to use such weapons, but for now he just hoped they didn’t get used on him.

Soon he was brought out of his thoughts as Jean directed him to clear out a building, it being his turn to search through it. With a firm nod he hurried inside, his rifle raised as he scanned the hollow building. Slowly he moved through the building, stepping over a few fall beams and ducking under a caved in ceiling. The structure seemed scorched with some occasional bullet holes decorating walls. Room after room he cleared, one of them he found an old body belonging to a fellow soldier of the Federation who looked to be decaying. From the dried blood that surrounded him and the stench the poor bastard must have been here for awhile. He shook his head before moving on until he reached the last room of the building. As he attempted to open the door he grunted as it refused to open. He cursed under his breath before taking a step back and planting his boot against the nearly rotten door, breaking it open before hurrying inside with his rifle raised. Luke paused through, freezing in place before lowering his rifle, a deadly silence hanging over him.

The room scorched from the floor to the ceiling, the right corner of the room barley collapsed and a horrid stench filling his nose. The stench of burnt flesh. Across from him, pinned under a fallen beam were three scorched bodies. One looking to be a woman and the other two small children. Luke stared at the scene, not noticing himself holding his breath. His attention was fixated on the poor souls in front of him. Both of the children seemed to be clutching onto the woman for dear life, their heads buried in their burnt chest as if they could hide from their unavoidable fate. Meanwhile the woman seemed to wrap her arms around the two, pulling them in close as she could, trying her best to protect the two till the very end. Their charred skin was black as coal, yet their exposed teeth remained bone white as their mouths were still open as their final moments were screaming in agony and desperation. He could feel their empty burnt out eye sockets stare through him and sent a chill through his soul.

“Fuck,” was all he mutter as his eyes widen and clutched his rifle tightly. Soon though, he began to hear a crackling noise that soon grew into the roaring of a raging fire. His breathing began to quicken, his heart pounding as the noise only grew louder until he swore he could hear three distant screams of agony. Wailing as the fire raged on, begging for help. It was beginning to become deafening and drove him mad before he was brought back to reality by a squeak from behind him. Luke spun around with his rifle raised and his pupils shrunken in fear only to see a rat in his crosshairs. Shakily he lowered his rifle, his breathing heavy, his skin pale and sweat running down his face. It took him a moment to calm himself before remembering what he was doing here in the first place. With a deep breath he gave the scene a final glance before closing the door and making his way out of the building. As he returned to the team he gave Jean a nod before moving on with their mission, remaining silent and glancing back to the building before pressing on.



(Some time later)

Luke moved with his team in silence, no longer having anything to say and simply trying his best to focus on the mission. Soon they all came to a halt as Jean took a knee and gave a small sigh as he kneeled down behind a collapsed wall. The distant sound of rumbling engines reached his ears, yet his mind began to drift off, unconcerned of any of the dangers around them. He was quickly brought back from his thoughts as Jean spoke to Ines and Victoria, telling them to clear out a nearby building in a hushed voice. Luke gave a small sigh before sliding down the wall to sit down, wiping some sweat from his face and resting his head against the wall. He hadn’t realized it yet but he felt exhausted. With a sleepless night and slinking around through the ruined city it was clear why he felt so tired. Not to mention that damn building from earlier, he couldn’t get it out of his head. With a frown he pulled out his canteen and took a sip, the cool water running down his throat eased his parched throat, but as he pulled the canteen from his lips he noticed his trembling hand. “Shit,” he muttered before putting away his canteen and lowering his head, his helmet hiding his face as he closed his eyes.

“Fuckin shit show,” he muttered to himself as his mind continued to drift back to that damn room and the three charred bodies. What were those sounds he heard? Was he just going insane!? He shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to focus. Just thinking about those two children… he couldn’t help but think about his sisters. What if that was them? What would he do? If he couldn’t protect them? What if this war spreads out towards them? He gritted his teeth and forced the thought out of his mind, not wanting to think about it anymore. He raised his head and sighed before looking over to Thomas and Jean with tired eyes. Luke could feel his hand still shaking and attempted to hide it by holding onto it with his other hand. “What do you think this place was like before all this shit went down?” he asked out of the blue, hoping to keep his mind off his thoughts with conversation. It was probably a better idea to focus on the mission, but he couldn't think straight.

@LetMeDoStuff

Luke Godfrey & Victoria White




Victoria had been too entranced by the presence of Oceania's greatest war hero to take part in the conversation between Luke and Jean, but she had certainly taken notice. When she joined the war she had been expecting more professionalism, grim faced men and women going about their business with purpose and direction. Instead she got to quietly munch on garlic bread and some kind of meat while a racist that seemed at odds with most of the squad tried to lazily apologize for hurting a superior's feelings. Vicky certainly disapprovingly of Luke's antics, having spat on the ground dismissively at the "apology." Was the boy stupid or just unsure of how to go about it? She could only snicker to herself quietly when the poor idiot asked if he was just making things worse. Yes, yes he was.

What was honestly more disappointing was the Francian's reaction. He was well within his rights to reject Luke's words, Victoria certainly would have if she had been in his shoes. But the NCO's tone offended her on a personal level. She could smell weakness on him, predatory instinct from years of street life kicking in and seizing him up as a target. God forbid, you still call me a Darkie. Have you no tact? Was he serious? How could one be such a soft bitch and expect to lead troops in the heat of battle? His words were flowery and pathetic, sounding like someone's grandmother scolding a child for cursing. The way Jean looked away made Victoria feel embarrassed for him, for god's sake. There was a man who needed a good beating or two. Then he would learn what real hurt was. Words meant nothing. Knives and clubs and bullets were painful, not some stupid kid saying stupid things. And tomorrow she would be going on her first mission under his command. Hopefully he was less of a pathetically sniveling whiner when in the midst of a two way shooting gallery.

She spent the night gathering up her essentials, filling the bandoleers around her torso with ammo and clipping a couple Ragnite bombs to them. The Oceanic also made sure that she had a couple extra grenades in her satchel. If she didn't need them, great. If she did she would be glad she brought them. Her carbine was topped off with a fresh clip, a spare placed in her hatband next to the feather and rat skull. The rats were what she strived to be like, dehumanizing herself to survive the brutal conditions thrust upon her. Cunning, quick, vicious, those where the traits they embodied and would hopefully pass onto her.

A low sigh escaped Luke, an awkward tension lingering between him and Jean ever since last nights little conversation. He knew it'll be a pain in the future, but they'll have to handle it later, today they had to focus on the mission. As Luke sat upon some rubble, looking out towards No mans Land he dug throw his pockets, silently hoping he had one last smoke before their mission. A smirk rolled onto his lips as he pulled out a crumpled cigarette and popped it into his mouth before lighting it. It could be his last chance to taste sweet nicotine so he might as well take it. As he took a quick drag he noticed a familiar face arrive and looked to Victoria with an emotionless expression as she started to gather her gear. While exhaling some smoke from his lungs he rested his rifle onto his lap and chuckled lightly as he remembered their little party last night. Honestly he was a bit embarrassed that she saw him in that state. Made him feel like some hurt little kid with mommy issues. The mommy issues may be true, but it still bothered him that she saw him like that. Soon he flicked some ashes from his cigarette and smirked towards Victoria. "So, you ready to crawl around No mans Land like rats? Might be hard for someone your size, but I think I can drag ya back if ya take a hit," he chuckled before taking another drag from his smoke and looking back out towards No mans Land with tired eyes.

Victoria took a sip of her spiked coffee, the brew's bitter taste not much improved by the addition of low quality alcohol. In fact it was downright awful, possibly the worst drink she had ever had which was quite the feat. But it was strong and hot and that's what she needed at the moment. The scalding beverage was downed in a single gulp and the tin cup dropped lazily to the ground, Vicky kicking it away disinterestedly. She smirked at Luke's laughter, taking a guess at just what he was smiling about. "G'day cunt." she said easily, checking the inside of her uniform to make sure her trophies were secure. "How're you feeling?"Victoria had debated about what to do with the rest of her trophies, finally electing to sew them into the lining of her uniform. A flag taken from the enemy, a medal looted from an elderly man's run down-house and a pinup picture intended for a now dead man's hands only to end up in the clutches of a violent loser searching the pockets of corpses. Strange good luck charms but they would have to do. Once her equipment was in place the temporary scout made her way to the others, taking position next to Luke on his rubble pile.
Like rats indeed. she thought to herself, spitting on the ground. Booze scented saliva pinged off the cup with a satisfying plink, her smirk only growing wider. "Thanks, fuckwit. I really appreciate the sentiment." Vicky said with mock appreciation, words heavy with sarcasm. 'Cuz the feeling ain't bloody mutual. I'm not dragging back corpses 'n' invalids, you'll stay and feed crows." With the customary insults out of the way Victoria was free to sit next to her boy and wrap an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into her. "You slept like shite." It was a statement, not a question. She could see in his eyes how tired her was, regretting knocking back the coffee so quickly. He needed to be alert, or it was all there asses on the line.

Luke chuckled lightly as Victoria stated she wasn't dragging anyone back anytime soon and lowered his head with a smirk. 'Food for the crows huh? Sounds fitting,' he thought to himself before scratching his chin and glancing over to Victoria before she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and bringing him in close, the smell of coffee spiked booze on her breath. Luke frowned a bit, but he was use to her being so handsy by now, always looking to slip her way into peoples personal space without permission. A small smile came to his face as she informed him he didn't sleep well and rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. "I didn't sleep at all. To much... to much on the mind I guess," he said, his voice growing lower as he finished and looked to the ground. Luke tried to get some kind of sleep, but it was no use, there were to many thoughts nagging away at him to let him rest. He was use to it now though, the sleepless nights and constant unwelcomed thoughts. It was still a pain though. Plus he was busy insuring he had something in case this would be his last mission. Gently he rested his hand onto his uniforms front pocket and frowned slightly. He shook his head and sighed. "I'm fine though, I'll be able to keep up," he said before pausing for a moment and glancing towards her again. "If I can't though, you mind doin me a favor?" he asked, his voice low to make sure no one else could hear them. "There's something in my right pocket just below my heart. If you can, you mind taking it off my corpse and sending it back to my home?" he asked before looking away with a sad smile.

Victoria noticed her boy's frown but didn't relinquish her grip. She cared about him too much for that. He had been through hell, denied the chance to have even a semblance of a proper raising. While her own relationship with her parents was nothing if not strained he had suffered through much worse than she had and needed some type of physical affection. So Mama Vicky held her little Luke tightly, holding onto him as a reassuring presence. "Ya know, you don't have to act like this ain't settling a need for love of yours." she teased him. "Stupid bastard like you has so many enemies you'll take a hug from anyone 'n' everyone who gives it." She laughed but it was hollow and half hearted, dying out quickly. "I don't know if you remember, but when you fell asleep in that tent yesterday you muttered about how I wasn't going to leave. I just want to tell you that you were right. So just fucking accept it, and enjoy it." Her light admonishment over Vicky listened carefully, an eyebrow raised at his claim that he could keep up. "Watch yourself, yeah? Don't want to be scraping chunks of bone 'n' bits of ya off my hide." Another bitter joke, another bout of laughter in the face of death. She quickly sobered up at the request, nodding without a second thought. "If I have to drag myself through artillery fire to your corpse to dig through your pockets I'll do it with a smile." the soldier promised. "Can I ask what's so important?"

A small smirk came to his face as she said he didn't like her embraces and scoffed with an eye roll. "Whatever," he muttered with a small chuckle. His smile faltered though as she reminded him of what he said to her before passing out last night. It caused his cheeks to flush up a bit in embarrassment, but as she said she wasn't going anywhere he glanced up to her, a small bit of relief in his eyes before darting back to the ground. A small chuckle escaped him from her rather dark joke before nodding. "I'll watch my step," he promised her before she assured him she'll fulfill his request. A warm feeling of relief rose up into his chest, happy to know she'll help him if he doesn't make it back. He glanced back up to her as she asked about what it was he wanted her to take and remained silent for a moment, hesitant to show her. Soon though he swallowed that hesitation and dug into his front pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. Slowly he opened it to reveal a letter with the picture of his smiling twin sisters in the middle, their smiling faces bright and warm as they enjoyed a warm meal at the dining table. "It's for my sisters," he paused for a moment before continuing. "I... I know I've changed since I left them and I'm not sure if I'll be the same if I get back. If I get back that is. So if I die out here I want to at least send them my final thoughts," he said before a small smile came to his face as he looked at the picture. "Let them know I miss em, that I think about them everyday and how they are one of the reasons I'm here. That I... that I'll always be there even if I don't come back," he said before he noticed his vision growing a bit blurry. A quick sniffle escaped him before he cleared his eyes with his thumb before any tears escaped his eyes. He shrugged and gave a weak chuckle. "Damn it I'm tired," he muttered, hoping it to be an excuse for the teary eyes.

The eye roll meant she was getting to him. Mission accomplished. The teen mother gave Luke another squeeze as as he looked up at her, the relief in his eyes matched by gentle care. "Hey, I mean. As long as both of aren't buried, I'll be right next to you the whole time." She waited patiently for him to decide whether or not to trust her with whatever it was he wanted delivered in the event of his death, easing up just a bit to give him some space as opened the folded paper. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the two young girls in the picture were. "I understand." she whispered gently. "You have people you need to say goodbye to." That was all that needed to be said. He didn't need to explain himself anymore. Vicky opened her mouth to make a joke, to ask if his goodbye letter was as poor quality as his apology but quickly thought better of it. That was much too cruel, even for her. "Hey, listen." the young woman told her older comrade. "I'll do it. In return, I need you to mail this back to my daughter." A thumb hooked the chain of her necklace, pendant bouncing against her chest. "Do we have a deal?" She shifted a bit atop the rubble, wishing she had a blanket to wrap around them again as she held her adopted son close. "If you need to cry do it. Lean on me all you want."

Luke was relieved to hear she understood and smiled slightly before folding up the letter and placing back into his pocket. Luke noticed she was about to say something, but arched his brow as she kept quiet. Odd, he silently wondered what she was about to say. Soon though she grabbed his attention by asking her own favor from him. He looked to the neckless around her neck and nodded without hesitation. "Of course, you can trust me to get it done," he assured her, making the deal between the two official. He noticed her shift on the rubble they sat on and huffed as she still held him close. Luke held back a scoff as she said he could cry if he wanted to, even lean on her if he needed to. He shook his head and pulled back a bit with a smirk. "Thanks, but I don't need to cry. I'm just tired is all,"he said before giving a small shrug. "Besides, I don't have time to cry. I need to focus for that out there," he stated before pointing out to No mans Land. "I don't wanna be a crying mess when a Imp puts a bullet through my skull."

Now it was Victoria's turn to feel some relief, grateful that Luke had reciprocated the offer. It was much of a final gift for Elizabeth, just a flimsy chain and cheap brass locket with a picture of her inside. Nothing of monetary value or even really any emotional value either. It was somewhat tacky to give someone a picture of themselves but Vicky wanted it to mean more. She wanted Elizabeth to know that her drunken fuck-up of a mother had cared for her dearly, to understand the only reason that she had left home was earn money to put food on the table. She needed to tell her daughter that she had thought about her every single day she had spent in the mud and blood and filth of the war until she was shot or stabbed or blown to pieces. The Oceanic let her grip ease up a bit as Luke pulled back, deciding to respect his space as he lied through his teeth. "I gotcha, cobber!" she said with a friendly shrug, knowing that he wasn't telling the whole truth. Her eyes followed his finger, hands clenching her rifle so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. He was right. The time of strife was fast approaching, no room for tears, for sadness and guilt, for weakness of any kind. Hopefully Jean had figured that out. "What're we scratching about for? General intel, or something specific?"

A smirk came to his face as he was called a cobber, whatever that was before glancing down to notice her grip on her rifle grew tighter. Silently he asked himself if he was nervous about this mission. Maybe he was lying to himself when he thought to himself that he wasn't nervous at all, but all he could do was look out towards No mans Land and feel indifferent about it. They were just going out to do their job, that's all he told himself. He knew what he signed up for so he couldn't feel scared or angry about it, though that may change when the bullets start flying and he gets hit. Luke was soon brought out of his thoughts when Victoria asked what exactly they were going to scout for and shrugged. "I guess, it'd make sense if that was the case. Honestly I didn't bother to ask, they just gave us a job to do so we're just going to go do it. I just leave the details to our dark haired superior over there," he said with a nod back towards Jean.

Vicky snickered when Luke revealed that he hadn't asked for details either. "Guess we're both right fucking smart aren't we?" she muttered ruefully, wishing she had more of that spiked coffee from earlier. Perhaps it was better that she didn't know. After the armored car and the gas attack, who knew what kind of dastardly shit the diseased minds that developed weapons were thinking up now? If they were being sent out to find plans for some Imperial heat ray or engineered super disease or a flying death machine Victoria really didn't want to know. Better to let it appear out of nowhere and destroy her in an instant than to know that some unstoppable, inevitable harbinger of doom was just over the horizon and spend the remainder of her life stressing out about it. "Well, let's just hope he knows what he's doing." she said with a conspiratorial wink. She fell silent for a bit, making a final check of all her equipment and talismans, making sure the flag, medal and photo were stuck tight to the inside of her jacket. "You think your training prepared you enough for all this shit?"

"Being smart is to hard, I prefer relying on luck," he said with a grin before realizing he had a lit cigarette. It was mostly burnt out and Luke frowned in a bit of disappointment, disappointed in letting a good smoke go to waste. "Shit," he muttered and flicked it away before looking back to Victoria as she hoped Jean knew what he was doing. Luke shook his head and sighed. "So do I," he agreed with a small frown before rubbing the back of his neck with another sigh. A brief moment of silence fell upon the two as they sat together and with a bored huff he raised his rifle up and aimed down towards No mans Land, scanning the surroundings with a small frown. Silently he wondered if he'd get to add a few more kills onto his list. Soon Victoria spoke up, asking if he thought his training had prepared him for this. He lowered his rifle and checked his rifle with an unconcerned expression, more worried about his rifle instead of the mission. "Not sure, so far I'm not dead so maybe, but all I know is that my training taught me how to fight and act like a soldier. We'll just have to pray we're able to take on whatever comes our way," he said before pulling back his rifles bolt to check it's ammo before pushing a fresh round in. "I know for a fact though is that I know enough to kill me some Imps. I'm just wondering how many more bodies I'll stack up on my kill count," he muttered aloud before letting a small smirk come to his face at the thought.

"Let me tell you something about luck." Victoria said with a derisive snort. "Sooner or later, one day it'll run out on you. It might be today, might be next week. Might take a bloody decade! But it always does." That was the lesson she had learned watching Charles. Day after day he'd just managed to break even, their meager earnings being stacked into a steadily growing pile on a dirty card table as the collection of coins and crumpled bills they had earned through robbery and grifting shrank and swelled with little pattern. Once in a blue moon he would win big, bringing home fistfuls of cash with that triumphant smirk that had won her over in the first place. But those times were rare, and their positive effect was drowned out by the crushing defeats that came around every now and again to demolish what little financial security they had managed to scrape together. "If you have to rely on luck over your own skill, you might as well count your self as one well fucked cunt." She lifted her arms to the sky, still clutching her rifle as she stretched her sore back. "Well, that's as good indication as anyone. Aint't dead yet, so we learned something!"She laughed viciously at his question, falling back into conversation patterns she had picked up interacting with her fellow street rats. "Crikey, what am I up to now? Definitely two, one Imp fucker at the Inn and a dumb cunt back home. Not too bad so far."

Luke thought for a moment as Victoria spoke about luck and knew it was true, sooner or later his luck will run out and he'll probably bite the dust one of these days. For now though he'll just ride that luck until it blows up in his face. He chuckled as she said he was one fucked cunt and grinned. "Maybe, but at least my lucks gotten me this far. Some can't say that for themselves," he said with a smirk before leaning back a bit with a sigh. Honestly he should have died that day the gas dropped on them when the Imps ambushed him while he was escorting the civilians. His mind briefly remembered the mother and her child's motionless bodies and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose before letting out sigh. He opened his eyes and chuckled as she laughed at her statement. Luke nodded as she listed her kill count in respect and shook his head. "I'd say I'm almost up to a dozen. I got a few the first day I came here when I was clearing rooms with Franz, shooting a few of them dead before stabbing one to death. The last few I got was when the gas dropped. I got ambushed by a few Imps escorting the civilians away, shot one down before beating one down with my hammer. Real messy business," he chuckled at the memory of his kills, especially the two he killed up close and personal. That old veteran he stabbed to death who smiled before he died and that young Imp's pleads before he caved his head in. It was odd thinking back on it, shouldn't that bother him? He shook his head and sighed. "Yep, real messy business," he said with a lower voice, a hint of exhaustion in his tone before he looked out towards No mans Land with a tired smile.

"The only people that luck's failed are those relying on it." Vicky replied, trying to make her point. "Being good stomps being luck any day of the week. You take your luck, I'll keep skill." It was a fundamental difference in philosophy. Victoria didn't believe in fate or predestination, didn't appreciate the idea of some god already having determined where her life was headed. No longer were intangible concepts like luck or God going to rule her life. Maybe she had been born into poverty as penance for a past life of sin, or maybe fortune had rejected her. It didn't matter. From now on she was the master of her own destiny. Her triumphs and failures would be hers alone, no one else's to take credit or blame. "So like I said, you can- wait what the fuck?! A dozen?!" That was quite frankly a ridiculous number, one that would make Luke some kind of super soldier. Her first instinct was to call bullshit on the obviously false claim, but she hesitated. That note of exhaustion seemed too genuine for it to be false. "Guess I got some catching up to do then. You'll need the head start." she snickered.

Luke shrugged as Victoria told him to keep his luck and smirked. "She's gotten me far so I guess I'll keep it rollin," he chuckled. He may have had a few bumps along the road with Lady luck, but at least he was still kicking. He umped slightly when it finally clicked with Victoria with how many people he's killed and arched a brow with a smirk. "Well not a full dozen, but I'm getting close," he said before rubbing his chin as he thought on the number. Luke honestly thought Victoria would have more bodies then him stacked on the board. A grin slipped onto his face as she said she'd need to catch up and scoffed. "What makes you think you can catch up with me? The wars not over yet and there's plenty of Imps to gun down before then," he stated with a laugh. "Maybe we'll even be able to carve our way towards their capital. Now that'll be a sight to see," he said looking off towards the distance with a small smile. "Just imagine it, stripping their flag away and soaring the Federations banner over the fallen Empire. God, what a sight indeed," he said with his smile growing a bit larger.

"Just because you got started first doesn't mean you can keep up." Vicky snarled, a fierce grin stretched across her scarred face. "I'd wager that I'm a better killer than you, with guns, knives and my bare fucking hands!" There was still time for her to win this dark game, still lots of Imperials to cut through. She was going to notch kill after kill until she earned herself a medal, one to hang up with the other trophies. She was going to return home with a prize she could show off, something that she could point to and say "I accomplished something." She shrugged at the image he was suggesting, not really caring who won or lost. "Imps, Feds, who cares?? Neither of them give a shit about the common man. The only difference is accent. But it looks like I'm already ahead of you in one count." She opened her jacket again so her trophies were exposed, showing off the Imperial flag carefully stitched into the lining. "Snatched this off an officer." the vulture bragged. "Think I'll use it as a placemat from now on."

Luke let his own fierce grin spread onto his face as she bet she could kill better than him and let out a bark of laughter. "We'll see who's the best killer soon. Whoever wins has to buy drinks for the whole team all night," he declared with a competitive glimmer in his eyes. It should feel odd making such a bet, but he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of beating her and having her pay a fortune for his bar tab. As she talked about the Imps and Feds he simply gave a shrug. "I'm just a loyal to the people who trained me I guess. The perfect dog of the Federation," he chuckled with a grin. Luke arched a brow though as she said she was ahead of him in one thing. His eyes widened a bit as she pulled out an Imp flag and gawked a bit as he examined it with curious eyes. "Well damn," he muttered before huffing in disappointment. "I did take a nice ring off one of the Imps I stabbed to death, but I gave it to Ines for her birthday present," he said with a small sigh. "Just you watch though, I'll find myself a nice sidearm that'll trump your little flag," he promised with a grin.

"You're on!" Victoria agreed, feeling confident in her chances. "Hope you remember what happened last time you made a bet involving drinks, where you got shitfaced and lost to the wee cunt Diana." She snickered at the memory, one she would hold onto fondly and bring up whenever Luke was acting a little too high and mighty. "Your politics are your own, not my place to say." Vicky shrugged. "I just find it hard to be loyal to people who never gave a shit about me. It's different for you, Edinburgh's right in the belly of the beast. But the people pulling your leash have never given a shit about us Occies except for cannon fodder." The look of envy on his face was absolutely delicious, Vicky savoring it as she closed her jacket back up. "Here, new bet: Kills will be too hard to keep track off for the whole war. How about we go with whoever has the most loot by the end?" Showing off her horde was always pleasant for her, a competition centered around robbing the dead would suit her nicely

"Please don't remind me," he muttered with slightly flushed cheeks as she brought up the bet from the Inn. "Wasn't my finest moment," he said with a small sigh. Sure it got him his first kiss, but it was from that little woman who pretty much disliked him very much. Luke arched a brow as she talked about the Federation not caring about people like her and shook his head. "Well that's why we're here, we'll look after ya in their place," he said with a firm nod. They were in this together so it was only natural they look out for each other. He paused for a moment as she offered a new bet and thought for a moment. Whoever had the most loot? A grin slithered onto his face before he gave a nod of agreement. "Fine, I'll have enough loot to bury you and the whole team with," he declared with a chuckle before holding out a hand to shake on it.

"Maybe you should hold off on drinking for a while, stick to water and milk." Vicky suggested teasingly. "Leave booze to big girls like me and Ines. And Diana!" She nodded at Luke's words, appreciating them more than he could know. She had already lost one squad, the prospect of losing another terrified her. "And I'll watch yours." She responded. The Oceanic seized the Edinburgh's hand shook it firmly, excited and apprehensive about the approaching start of their deadly game.

A rough start to a long journey




A low groan escaped Diego as he slowly began to come to his senses, a chilling wind biting at his exposed skin. Where was he? The stinging cold was familiar to him, yet the slightly dull throb in the back of his head was new and only clouded his already fogged up mind. As he struggled to gain his wits he began to hear a familiar muffled voice call out to him. Who was that? They sounded a bit worried for some reason. Hesitantly he began to attempt to open his eyes, weakly blinking only to see a blurry figure looking down at him while gently shaking him. After a few more blinks he quickly recognized the animal like ears and smirked slightly. It all soon began to come back to him, the ship, the Royal Navy, the storm. After that it got fuzzy. Another groan escaped Diego before he rested his palm against his forehead. With a few more blinks his vision returned to him and he looked up to his small companion, Rose. She looked down at him with worried red eyes, her furry fox like ears folded back from worry before perking up to see Diego finally regain his consciousness, Diego giving a small smile in amusement to see her tail flick back and forth behind her. With a grunt he pushed himself up, Rose quickly helping him until he was sitting up.

“Diego! Finally you’re awake, I was starting to get worried,” she said with a sigh before letting a small smile rest on her face. Her ears folded back as a small gust of wind sent a chill up her spine, quietly regretting not having enough time to put something warmer on. With a shutter she winced before looking over her shoulder to see the last member of their little group, Enzio who was digging through the pockets of a deceased sailor. She frowned a bit, seeing Enzio’s nasty habit in action again before shaking her head. “Enzio, he’s-” she was cut off with an unconcerned wave from Enzio while he continued to search for anything valuable.

“I know, I know he’s awake. I told you he was fine, he always is. Old man just needed a nap,” he said before a small smirk came to his face as he pulled out a small jingling purse from the sailors pockets. With a small chuckle he looked to the two before rising to his full height with his hand resting atop his sheathed sword. “You feeling okay, or do you need a few more minutes?” Diego scoffed with an amused smirk before pushing himself up, Rose by his side silently asking him to rest for another moment. Diego gave her a small smile and patted her shoulder to let her know he was alright. He looked back to Enzio and glanced down to the deceased Sailor before looking back to him with a disapproving look. “What?” he asked in confusion before looking back to the corpse and rolling his eyes. “Oh don’t start now, this poor sap don’t need it any more,” his defense in the deed didn’t seem to work as Diego crossed his arms and nodded towards the body. After a moment Enzio looked to the purse before groaning and tossing it back onto the dead sailors chest.

Diego nodded in approval before looking down to Rose who was carrying his musket and the rest of his equipment. “Thank you Rose,” he said before taking his gear and patting her head, earning a small wag of her tail before looking to Enzio. “What’s the damage so far? Are there any other survivors?” he asked before checking his rifle. Enzio nodded and jabbed a thumb behind him.

“Well ships been wrecked since whoever was at the wheel can’t steer worth a damn. As for the others there are some people still alive around the wreckage,” Diego leaned to look over him to see a decent chunk of the ship behind him. Diego scanned their surroundings with a small frown as the beach they crashed on didn’t look like a nice one, the rocky surface looking unpleasant to walk along and the large spires of obsidian peeking over from the crashed ship. A small sigh escaped him before he looked back to Rose, noticing her bare feet exposed to the snowy ground.

“Where are your boots?” he questioned with a bit of concern. Rose looked down and her ears folded back again before looking to the sea. Diego followed her gaze and pieced it together before shaking his head. “Nevermind, lets just meet up with whoever is left,” he suggested before checking his gear one final time. The three began to make their way towards the other survivors, Rose taking the lead as she quickly hopped from rock to rock with ease. Diego and Enzio on the other hand gradually made their way after her, Enzio muttering in slight annoyance as he silently wished they crashed on a nice warm sandy beach. Soon the two caught up to Rose as she was crouched atop some debris and looked to see Charlotte addressing their remaining crew. Enzio scoffed as she tried to raise the moral before muttering something about how they should have picked a better route, but he was quickly silenced by a small tab on the side of the head from Diego’s back hand who kept his eyes on Charlotte.

The three of them silently stood together, scanning the are to see what they could do to help, but Rose paused before sniffing the air, her right ear twitching slightly. Meanwhile the other two looked around to see a few familiar faces, Diego spotting Everlid picking herself up and Enzio seeing Hourus going around giving people hugs before feeling a shiver travel up his spine as he hoped he didn’t come his way to offer him a hug. Before either of them could interact with the rest of their crew the familiar sound of gunfire filled the air and instantly the three ducked into cover, Rose barely dodging a bullet as it flew over her head. Diego slid down behind a rock before cocking the hammer on his musket, Enzio rolled behind a bit of debris with his sword drawn and finally Rose fell between the two, lowering herself close to the ground to keep her out of their attackers sights. “Hey Pup, why didn’t you call out these bastards!? That nose not working or something!?” Enzio shouted before another round crashed against his cover.

Rose narrowed his eyes towards Enzio and growled in annoyance, her sharp canines showing. “The air is filled with smoke and salt water, don’t start with me!” she barked back before ducking her head down as another shot went over her.

“Enough! We have work to do!” he shouted before looking to Rose and giving her a nod. She nodded and pulled out a smoke bomb before looking between the two. “Remember you two, no stunts and keep moving,” he ordered, looking at both of them with a stern gaze before they answered with a firm nod. After a few more shots flying over Rose tossed the smoke bomb over their cover and the three sprang into action, the three of them leaping over their cover and spreading out. Diego quickly moved from cover to cover with his head down. Rose pounced from rock to rock on all fours, her moves quick and efficient as she gradually made her way towards their attackers. Finally Enzio charged forward with his sword and curved dagger drawn, not following his companions lead in keeping it safe and instead focusing on getting up close and personal with his opponents.

Rose was the first to meet the enemy, two pirate hunters who both attempted to blast her away with their rifles, but to their surprise she rolled out of the way and lunged towards the two while drawing her dagger. She reached the first pirate hunter as he yelped in surprise and slashed her dagger along his chest and earning her a howl from her target before he fell back with a small spray of blood. Her ears twitched as she heard a blade leave it’s sheath and snapped her head back to the other pirate hunter as he drew his blade and lunged towards her with a roar. Quickly she sidestepped his attack, her blade scraping along his and sending a few sparks flying. She then jumped behind him, leaped onto his back and in quick work slit his throat before jumping off and landing atop a rock. The man fell dead to the ground and with heavy breathing Rose wiped a bit of blood from her cheek before hearing the click of a freshly loaded musket. Without looking to the source she dived forward and rolled behind another rock, barely managing to dodge the bullet.

“Damn I missed! Get that thing!” a voice barked and earning a snarl of frustration from Rose. She heard the rapid set of footsteps head her way and readied herself to attack. Though as a young pirate hunter rounded the cover with his rifle at the ready to fire a shot filled the air and he fell back with a yelp. Rose looked to the fallen hunter before looking back to see Diego with his musket raised and smoking. He gave her a nod and fell back into cover to reload and avoid a few more rounds. Rose smiled in relief before hearing a familiar voice shouting out.

“Stop shooting at me and just let me cut you!” Enzio shouted from a distance. Rose rolled her eyes and peeked out of her cover to see him running away from the enemy as he tried his best to avoid their bullets. Enzio cursed and shouted slurs towards the enemy as he ran away, a few yelps as some rounds pinged and flew over him. Soon he finally dived over some cover and grunted in annoyance as he rolled onto his back. “Son of a bitch! I hate guns!” he declared with heavy breathing before looking up to see Hourus. “Hey there,” he greeted before letting out a small groan and crawled to a rock beside him. “Hey Pup! Can you be useful for once and throw another smoke bomb!?” he shouted out.

“You're to far so bite me!” she shouted back and earned a groan from Enzio as he rested his sword and dagger on his lap before resting his head against the rock. He wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing for now so all he could do now was not get shot while he silently wished he had a drink for this long day.

Luke Godfrey


Luke held back a wince Jean began to speak, glancing to Ines with a ‘I told you’ gaze before looking back to Jean as he continued. Slowly he began to grow annoyed at his superior, looking at him with a bit of disgust as he spoke and expressed his displeasure in the whole situation. It took every bit of him to not roll his eyes as he called his comment from before rotten, or how he somehow abused his comrades. Abused!? They were all soldiers here, if they couldn’t take a little shit from a little comment like that then they should work in the kitchens or away from the fighting! Again he had to hold back a scoff as he said it hurt like a knife. He had never heard anything so outrageous. He should ask someone who’s been stabbed by a real knife and see if it’s the same. Honestly, Luke couldn’t believe this was his superior. As jean looked away with gritted teeth Luke clenched his hands behind his back, his annoyance growing by the second. ‘Don’t look away, have a fuckin spine if you’re gonna scold me with this bullshit!’ Luke thought to himself before Jean finally looked back towards him.

To his surprise he didn’t continue to scold him. Instead he admitted he didn’t enjoy speaking like this to him and pointed out his ignorance towards the issue. The incompetent comment bothered him a bit, but he began to feel his annoyance simmer down as Jean pointed out he knew nothing about the Darcsen history and jumping the gun without learning about them. He nodded slightly, able to understand his point. Luke paused though, a bit taken back as Jean admitted his ignorance towards the Darcsens actually scared him. He… scared him? For some reason it got under his skin. He was used to pushing people's buttons, but never has he actually scared someone. It’s fine if it’s his enemies, but his comrades? It didn’t feel right for some reason. Soon Jean spoke again, this time mumbling his words before allowing him to come on the mission. At least he had the green light to go, though as Jean said he looked and smelled like shit Luke looked down at himself with a small frown. He wasn’t wrong, right now he wasn’t at his best.

With that Jean dismissed himself from not only Luke but the team who were dining together. For a moment Luke stood there, letting Jeans words sink in while gazing out into space as he thought about the whole situation. It was all just a huge shit show. “Shit,” he muttered before ruffling his messy hair and walking to the table. His appetite was gone now, but he did snatch up a piece of garlic bread and left the team, not sparing them a glance or word, his mind focused on his discussion with Jean. Without any detours he returned to his tent and closed the flap to deny anyone from outside to see. A grunt escaped him as he sat down onto his bed and sighed. The tent was quiet as he sat alone, the garlic bread clutched in both hands as he looked down to the ground with a stern gaze. There was a mix of annoyance and disappointment between Jean and himself. Being told he scared Jean was still bothering him a bit since he couldn’t understand why such a little comment can cause all that. There were plenty of things that he should be afraid of in this warzone, so why the hell did this scare him?

Luke shook his head before taking a bite from his garlic bread. As he chewed and enjoyed the wonderful flavor he slowly looked up, catching a glimpse of himself in a slightly cracked mirror resting on a small empty crate he had stolen. For a moment he simply stared at himself, his chewing growing slower as stared himself in the eyes. They were so tired, his face dirty with a small bit of facial hair growing, some vomit on the corner of his mouth and finally that nasty scar on the right side of his face. Once he swallowed Luke gently ran a finger over his scar, his eyes hardening as it traveled to the bottom of his chin. This was actually him? He looked different before he came here didn’t he? He didn’t look so… dead. His mind began to drift back home to his family and friends before wondering if they would recognize him. Will he even be the same person when he gets back? If he got back that is. If he’s managed to scare his superior then would he scare everyone back home, especially his sisters? Luke clicked his tongue in annoyance before chucking the garlic bread to the corner of the tent and ruffling his hair in frustration. “Goddamnit!” he hissed before looking back to himself in the mirror. After a few minutes of silence he pulled out his bayonet from his boot, snatched up his canteen and silently began to try and fix the only thing he was able to.




The rest of the night flew by for Luke and before he knew it it was almost time to head out on the scouting mission. Luke stood in his tent, dressing himself into his uniform and checking his rifle. They had tried to take it from him, but there was no way he would let them touch it. Even if he got into trouble there was nothing that could separate himself from his weapon. With a small sigh Luke looked into the small mirror, rubbing his newly shaved and washed up face. His uniform was still a bit messy, but luckily he had managed to scrub out a little bit of that booze smell. The smell of death still lingered, but there was no use trying to hide it, there was gonna be more soon to come. Finally after making sure he was prepared to go Luke gave himself a slight nod before leaving the tent, strapping on his helmet and swinging his rifle on his shoulder.

Soon he met with Jean and began to collect his gear silently, sneaking a few spare rounds into his pockets. If this was a scouting mission then it meant he would have to travel light so he made sure to take only the bare essentials. After making sure he was ready to go he looked to Jean then out towards No Mans Land with an expressionless gaze. It was definitely dangerous out there, but it didn’t scare him. He just wanted to get to work and get it over with. With a long sigh he sat down on some rubble and looked out towards the sight that would frighten most men. He remained silent for a moment before speaking. “Couldn’t fix the dead guy smell, but I did my best to get rid of the shitty smell,” he said before rubbing his chin. Luke looked to his rifle and aimed it out towards the No Mans Land before lowering his rifle with a small smirk. “Perfect mourning for stroll through hell. Don’t you think, Sir?” he asked, making sure to refer to Jean respectably instead of ‘Boss’. Might not make any difference, but it could be a small step in mending the damage between them.

@LetMeDoStuff









Luke Godfrey


A low groan escaped Luke, his stomach churning in nausea and his head spinning as he bent down. He frowned in annoyance at the puddle of bile he had just puked up behind his tent and closed his eyes as he fought to keep more down. “Fuckin Darkie, must have spike that rum with something,” he muttered before spitting out a glob of what was left from the bile that had escaped his stomach. Silently he knew Ines couldn’t have spiked his drink, but he had hoped putting the blame on her helped him concentrate for the moment. Sadly that wasn’t the case as his mind still struggled with the pent up frustration from his drunken dispute earlier. For the moment, as he leaned forward awaiting any more bile that wanted to escape his gut, Luke tried his best to simply hold down his thoughts along with his stomach. He could barely remember what it was he had been arguing about earlier, but he could remember the feeling of… anger? No, there was definitely anger, but there had been something much more spine chilling that had drained him on the spot. He shook his head and cleared his throat, finding it impossible to remember at the moment.

With a groan he stumbled out from behind his tent and spat to the side before looking around the camp, ruffling his messy hair with a frown. It had all been a blur, but from what he could remember he slipped away from Victoria’s comforting presence, ran behind his tent and felt as if he was going to die. A stale chuckle left him as he began to get his head on straight before he wiped his mouth and stretched his limbs with a sigh. “We really need to head back out, this sitting around his gonna kill me before the fucking Imps,” he muttered to himself hearing familiar voice ring out through the camp. Dinner time? What, did they get an extra shipment of rations, or did they catch a few rats again? At first he hated the taste of rats, but soon it wasn’t to bad, almost like chicken. If that chicken came out of a trash of severed rat asses. It was meat though and he was happy to catch it with a few people from other squads.

Luke’s mind snapped back to reality as a wonderful scent of cooked food reached his nose. Real food!? It brought pleasure to his nostrils and his recently emptied stomach began to rumble violently. He looked around to see his squad heading to the dinner table and cleared his throat, forcing down his sickness and making his way to join the others. He walked slowly, making sure he was the last to arrive and attempting to keep a low profile from the others. His head was still spinning slightly, his stomach felt uneasy and a small frown rested on his tired looking face, but the urge to start eating real food forced him to continue with everyone. His urge for food though would have to be held back as Jean began to address the team. It took everything in him to hold back a groan of annoyance, but as he listened he arched a brow as Jean announced a scouting mission they were assigned to and needing volunteers. Instantly he knew he had to go, staying in this camp any longer was going to drive him insane.

As he silently felt joy towards the mission he began to remember his talk with Ines earlier concerning Jean and felt his frown grow. He still owed him an apology and honestly it irritated him slightly. Jean, even if he hated to admit it, was due an apology. The last time Luke had even apologized to anyone was to his friend Jack when he accidentally kicked him in the groin since he mistook him for a robber. Silently he looked at Jean as he continued to speak, glancing to his blue hair and feeling a chill travel up his spine. That hair, it reminded him of more unpleasant memories. Even a tinge of anger flared up in his chest, but he forced it down and sighed. This was gonna be a mess.

Soon Jean finally ended his speech and everyone began to surge towards the food, though Luke stayed back for a moment, watching everyone begin to get their food and arched a brow as Jean seemed to like the garlic bread a bit to much. He clenched and unclenched his hands, his mind trying it’s best to come up with an apology. Finally he sighed and shook his head. Screw it, he’d just go for it. Luke approached Jean with an emotionless expression and tapped his arm. “Boss, I need to talk to you. It’s a bit important,” he said, his tone low as he tried not to gain anyone else's attention. He led him away from the table before turning towards him and turning towards him, a small frown on his face and his posture straight in a professional manner, though he wobbled a bit thanks to his little party earlier.

“Boss I… I owe you an… apology,” he said, seeming to struggle to get it started. “About what happened when we first entered this shithole of a city,” he clarified before clearing his throat and glancing away for a moment before looking back. “I may have been out of line, the whole Darcsens should live in shitholes like this may have been a bit rough now that I’ve had some time to think on it,” he admitted as he rubbed the back of his head. Luke closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose, knowing he still needed to explain his reason.

“I realize it wasn’t the smartest move in a team like ours, but I’m not… well, use to working with Darkies-I mean, Darcsens!” he quickly caught himself and sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, hold on, I uhh… I mean, I’ve never actually been around Darcsens that are not trying to be a throne in my side,” it probably wasn’t the best way to save himself from this shitshow of an apology, but he just had to wing it now. “All of the Darcsens I’ve ever met have either done harm to my foster families business, or threatened my life and the lives of my sisters. I’ll be honest, I thought you were all the same. Thieves, thugs, sneaky little… I’m making things worse aren’t I?” he sighed and ruffled his hair. “Anyway, ever since I joined this team I’ve realized that may have been a bit, well, ignorant I guess. Honestly, I barely know the history behind Darcsens and have been going off my own experiences dealing with you people, or uh… Darcsnes,” he shook his head and felt his uneasy stomach rumble and winced as it slightly bothered him. With tired eyes he locked his gaze with his and cleared his throat.

“Again though Boss, I apologize for what I said and I want you to know I will never let it get in the way of our mission here. My life and rifle are under your command, ready to be used or discarded at your order. To prove it I want to volunteer for the scouting mission and to be in the front in case we are to engage any Imps,” he finished with a stern voice and even crossed his arms behind his back at attention. He was unsure how he did, but he awaited for Jeans reply, his stance wiggling a bit as he still struggled to stand up straight.

@LetMeDoStuff



Luke & Ines




Inès sighed. Usage of the phrase, "A lot to think on" did suffice, yet to insist that it was only these past few weeks that occupied Inès' thoughts would be misnomic. Thoughts of all manner ran past her. Every last emotion Inès could comprehend raced in her as she paced about the last two weeks in her mind, and with that pacing came new, unusual feelings. Emotions she felt, but did not understand. Things that were difficult to rationalize or explain properly, like the sudden feelings of repetition as she charged about September 12th as though the events were a requiem of a foregone experience. The White Hart was far from the first bar she had seen torn to pieces, far from the only civilians she had seen caught in a crossfire of things much larger than anything they could reasonably control. Were they any less gruesome the second, third, fourth, fifth time around? Could Inès do anything more the next times around? No. Resoundingly no, if her previous display were to be taken for.

A brush of the wind catches her azure eye, drifting her focus back into the camp. Straightening herself, her thoughts grew hazy for a fleeting second, then the world shook its sudden blackness to full, dreary color. Much talk had gone around, yet none of it did she bother to care for engagement with. Things seemed to press on her too much to really talk about them for very long, for Inès was always of the belief that she should comprehend what she speaks so much of, lest she waste both her and her occupant's times.

From that sea of conversation, her birthday did pass. She had a few quaint people to tell, who were equally in no position to be granting her birthday wishes. Freya found herself occupied with the constant fighting of getting clear of Amone's warzones proper, while Franz...well...the less said of Franz, the better. Neither of those two were in much a place for the time to bring up such a "joyous" occasion, and she need not bother them with those thoughts. Perhaps later, they could celebrate, and perhaps later there would come a time for festivities. Yet truth be told, to not celebrate was a more usual circumstance for the Darcsen than any form of festivity, in true poetic notion, birthdays were the worst days. All talk of gift-giving and livery were typically gone, expended at the expense of the typical finances of the working class, necessary or otherwise. To date, Inès could recall one- no, forgive, two birthdays in which she celebrated.

Talks of birthdays inevitably rang up the name of the dirthead himself; Luke. And he would have to learn that lesson the hard way. Birthdays were the worst days, and September 12th, 1914 was likely the worst day he ever had the misfortune to experience.

Inès breathed out, shaking her head just at the passing thought. Luke certainly held an occupation back home of redefining tomfoolery, she imagined, yet no manner of uncouth action befitted someone such a fate. Perhaps misguided, and likely naïve, Inès agreed, yet Luke wasn't a bad person. As she began walking, the clank and clatter of her satchel against her leg reminded her of that present to call her own, of that coincidental conferment. A bottle of rum, and a bottle she would likely never drink. A step, a clink. Step. Clink! Step. Clunk! Step. Swick!

Her head tilted over to her side. What could go wrong from a bit of merrymaking?

‘Where is he…’ she wonders, going off about in the direction of the male encampment. Difficulty in finding him had no detriment of her search, for with every tent that did not belong to him, seven more reminders of a gift she would never use came to her head, and seven more reminders of a birthday ruined for them both. Poke after poke, peek after peek, Inès found Luke in his - how she should say - natural state.

"I'm not impressed." she commented, entering his domain without so much as a knock. Her face was, perhaps, as Luke always noted it; Irritated, caustic, and focused. Her eyes swivel, slowly walking around to the position directly across from Luke, taking a seat while he cleaned his rifle.

"...do you have a second?" Inès asked, crossing her legs with her satchel atop.

A pleasant smile rested on Luke's face as he wiped away a few smudges from his rifles bolt, using a bit of spit to get the job done before flipping his weapon over to start on the other side. Luke couldn't help but chuckle, his morale clearly high enough to reach the skies and more. He couldn't help but think on the letter from home and the adorable picture of his sisters Sarah sent. A large part of him felt homesick and silently hoped this war would end soon so he can go back and give them all a great hug, but he knew he was where he should be. He missed his home and family, but this was his destiny, his calling. This was the time to make a future for not only himself, but for his family. Plus he remembered the day his sisters first saw him uniform and smirked at the adorable spark of awe in their blue eyes. He hoped they would someday follow his example, to strive to be something bigger and have their own goals. Another chuckle escaped him as he flicked off a bit of dirt from the butt of his gun before hearing a familiar voice state the fact she wasn't impressed. He scoffed slightly and kept his smile, but kept his eyes glued to his weapon.

"Well sorry my blue haired comrade, but I'm not here to impress you. Just to outshine you," he replied with his smirk growing a bit before blowing a bit of smoke from his nose before tapping some ashes off from his smoke. A part of him hoped the Darcsen would continue on and leave him be, but that hope was dashed as she sat down across from him. He held back a sigh and kept his smile while cleaning his rifle. Luke didn't particularly hate the woman, it was just that most of the time they interact it either ends in yelling and smacking, or just a few quick jabs at each other. It didn't help that she was a Darcsen, though she's proven to him she's not like any other Darcsen he's met so he has less of an issue with her. He paused as he was cleaning the butt of his rifle and arched a brow as she asked for a second of his time. He thought for a moment, tapping his finger against the wood of his weapon before shrugging and resting his rifle across his lap. "I guess, got plenty of time to spare," he said before looking back up to her, his smiling dulled a bit to be more neutral and kept his eyebrow arched as he was a bit curious to what she had to say. He took another puff from his smoke and blew the chemicals away from her face. "What?"

She glanced over at him, looking at him over, pass after pass. The discussion at hand was nothing she found herself practicing for in any capacity, yet it would need to be done, one way or another. Inès fidgeted around, quickly straightening her posture before making her offer.

"I heard it was your birthday. During..."She frowned. Her head tilts to the side, her eyes slowly dashing to her left, then back at him in suggestion. "...the inn." she finished, "And...it was my birthday when this all happened, so."

The Darcsen blinked, eventually turning her composure into a deeper half-growl. Quickly, she unbuttoned the top of her satchel, and out pulled her signature bottle. The nearly two-liter bottle itself, still branded proudly with the Centrolandic insignia, if a but muddied by the thorough residue of the gas ruining any metalwork upon it. She presented it forward, holding out the label in front of Luke.




Admiral Aufrey's Finest Centrolandic Rum
100 Proof
1.75 Litres




"Let's...make something of our birthdays." she suggested.

Luke noticed her fidget in her seat and grew even more curious to what could make her be that way. Soon though she reveled it to him as she mentioned his late birthday and frowned slightly, not sure where she was going with this, but he hoped it was good enough to bring it up now. He was a bit surprised to hear her birthday was at the same time all hell went loose and shook his head, silently finding a sad humor in the fact both their birthdays were ruined by this damn war. Luke looked back to her eyes to see that she composed herself much better and began to pull something out of her satchel. It took him a second to figure out what it was, the slightly muddied object all to familiar to him. His eyes widened slightly as she showed him the label and gave an impressed whistle. "Admiral Aufrey, eh? Been a while since I had that bad boy," he said before glancing back up to her, blowing a bit of smoke from his lungs to the side as he arched a brow in slight confusion as she suggested they try to make up for both of their late birthdays. He stared at her for a few silent seconds, looking for any tricks within her eyes.

Soon he let out a bark of laughter and slapped his knee. It took a few seconds to compose himself, but soon he wiped a tear from his eye and looked back to her, his grin wide as he flicked some ashes from his smoke. "So let me get this straight. You, a Darkie, want to share a bottle of good rum with me, a Dirthead if I remember correctly, to make up for our late birthdays?" he paused as he kept his gaze with hers before speaking up again. "And there aren't any tricks?" he added before leaning back in his seat and staring at her in silence. After taking another puff he let a grin spread onto his face and released the chemicals out of his nose before shrugging. "Sure, why not? How am I gonna pass up free rum?" he said with a chuckle before ruffling his slightly still wet hair. "Just hope you can keep up."

"Take the damn rum." She commanded, foisting the bottle onto Luke. A bit rough, certainly, but if anything, she was insistent upon giving him something that resembled a present.

Yet, his challenge of drinking along with her was met with difficulty, signaled by her scowling sharp demeanor. Visibly shaking, Inès shook her head at his insistence of turning the affair into a challenge. "I hate rum." Inès told him, a hissing tone to it, almost, only hushing out of courtesy for the brownhead.

He chuckled as she forced the rum into his hands and held up the bottle, inspecting the bottle and feeling a small smile come to his face. He glanced back to her and noticed she may be getting annoyed with his teasing, her scowl usually a sign he was about to get hit. Though it never did. He stared at her for a moment as she stated she hated rum and looked back to the bottle before looking back to her. A small smile came to his face and he gave a grateful nod towards the Darcsen. "Thanks, it may be late, but I appreciate it," he thanked her before cracking open the bottle and taking whiff of the familiar smell of rum. He glanced back to her with an arched brow. "Well I hope your hate for rum won't hold you back in enjoying this with me," he said before holding up the bottle and giving a large grin before taking his cigarette out of his mouth. "To the Federation then! Lets hope we can get this whole shit show over with soon!" he said before taking a nice swig of rum, enjoying the taste of and letting out a satisfied sigh. He looked back to Ines and chuckled before offering her a drink. "Lets make it last."

"À votre santé." Inès saluted, nodding the neck of the bottle up to Luke. She took a slight swig back, maintaining it while she audibly gulped. The bottle came back, Inès coming with a huff. A snort came after, Inès' brow furrowing as she took the stiff drink in. She held it in hand loosely about the base, shaking her head while the drink did process.

In due time - after due silence - she looked back up at Luke. Not a welcoming sight, by many metrics, yet Inès did clearly put on as neutral a face as the Darcsen could make for sake of conversation. She did another take of rum, this one much shorter, then posed the bottle back.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, her voice lighter, less heavy than what Luke was accustomed to. Her hand posed up, almost as if extending a helping hand, yet was clearly simply conversational etiquette. "I mean, what made you join the army?"

Luke smirked in slight amusement as the Darcsen took a swig, chuckling lightly as she shook her head. It seemed like she really did hate rum. He shrugged as she looked back to him, an amused smirk still on his face. He was a bit surprised to see her take another hit of rum and chuckled as she handed the bottle back. As he took the rum back he arched a brow in slight surprise as she questioned why he was here, her tone somewhat different than usual. She clarified what she meant and fell silent for a moment. He leaned back while taking a sip from his drink as he though on her question. What was he doing here? After gulping down wave of rum, a pleasant shiver running down his bare back, he looked back to her with a smirk.

"A fresh start I guess," he simply said, his expression softer than usual as he said the words and glanced to the ground, stealing another sip from the bottle to encourage his explanation before shaking his head. "I was nothing but a peasant farmer, a nobody to the rest of the world. I was sick of feeling useless and decided, after generations of farmers in my family, I'd become something greater," he said, frowning slightly as he stared at the ground. "I refuse to be forgotten like them, like my father, a great man that died way to early," he said as his free hand clenched into a fist before he took one last swig of rum and wiping his mouth clear. "Plus, it's also for them," he added before pulling out the picture of his sisters and offering her the photo. "I want to prove to them we're destined for greater things," he said with a small smile as he glanced to the picture before offering the rum back to her.

As she listened to his reasoning's, it really did all resound with her; It all reinforced what she thought of him. She smirked. Always satisfying to be proven correct it was, but that made his plight no less important, nor did Inès know that it was any reason to look upon it any differently. In many ways, she found herself to be all too much like him. Like a dirthead the two made fun of, coming together over something so innocuous as making a fortune for themselves. Her blue eyes lock to his, just following his declaration to be something more.

Inside her bag, she reached in, feeling around as she just glanced down for a bare moment. The bag moved just slightly, falling flat as she withdrew it, item in hand.

Two small, silver gloves flung, falling into Luke's lap.

"I made a name for myself." she related, smiling at him. "When I was a little girl, I was..." Her grin grew a bit wider, obviously drawing upon nostalgia.

"I fought everyone. Everyone fought me. And I fought back, and I was good at it. And ever since I was a little girl, I knew I had too much talent to work in a factory. That's what I wanted to do; I wanted to fight."Inès took another swig of rum, coughing once, yet the pain did nothing to detract her from her wide grin. Those sharp Darcsen eyes drew back on Luke, laughing on their own, as if Inès were rejoicing with the warmth of an old friend."When I was twelve, I started learning savate. Chausson. Canne de combat. I fought my first ring fight when I was thirteen. And I loved it."

"I fought twice a month. Sometimes, I'd fight more outside of the gym." Her finger points down at her silver gloves, the smile only emaciated by pride could produce clear. "And when I was eighteen, I was Gante Argente; the champion."

Luke arched a brow as a pair of gloves fell into his lap and picked them up, inspecting the silver gloves with a bit of interest. He glanced back up at her and couldn't help but smirk in amusement as she grinned before explaining her early days as a fighter. He chuckled a bit as she took another sip of rum and coughed, but that didn't stop her grin from showing and her eyes feeling less hostile towards him than usual. Luke listened as she told him about her growing as a fighter in her youth. Honestly he was a bit impressed to hear of her accomplishments and smirked as she said the name she earned. "Gante Argente huh?" he mused aloud as he looked up to her and nodded his head. "Impressive, must have been a fierce little thing in the ring. I wouldn't mind seeing one of those fights actually, you sound like you can give a good show," he chuckled before snapping his fingers and feeling a smile spread across his face.

"Ya know I think I actually heard about you one time. Some fellow was passing through our town and I was working in the tavern when he was going on about some pretty entertaining fights. He was drunk off his ass, but I think I heard him say something about a blue haired fighter that would beat the crap out of their opponents," he chuckled and shook his head before looking back at her with a arched brow. "Tell me, why did you join? You still trying to make a name for yourself, or what?"

Inès laughed, like Luke told her a joke. Not in the humblest of ways, either; This came as a haughty laugh, as if Luke were insulting his own intelligence by bothering to ask so basic a question. The Darcsen looked on him like he were a confused child, almost motherly, even. She extended her arms out, opening up her posture while her palms remained open.

"Look at me." she responded, "What else can I do? Work in a factory? No. Sift through mail? No. Go run through alleys and become some gutter trash mugger? Fuck that. I've worked too damn hard to get to where I am, and I'm not throwing it all away by becoming some thug in one of Ostend's gangs."

"What can a Darcsen girl from the city do? I can fight. That's the only thing I can do well. And if there were any more savate fights in Ostend, I wouldn't be here. But we've always been good fighters, and good fighters make good soldiers, so we're told. Most tireurs were drafted, and...well, I joined because that's all I'm good for." Inès, in some senses, lowered her hands in defeat. The blankness as she looked down just slightly almost confirmed it, spare that glint in her eyes that burned like pure blue flame. It almost seemed watery, in a sense, for Inès so clearly did call upon stories of old she looked upon so favorably. An exhale broke the mood, her head lightly shaking side to side, just thereafter raising back to meet Luke.

"You don't need to be here." Inès suggested, turning her head to the side, "You have a whole farm, a family. A hair color that doesn't match the ocean. You should do something with yourself. Go to college."

Luke frowned slightly, not in annoyance, but in thought as Ines told him he didn't need to be there. In a sense she was right, any sane person would never abandon and a loving family, he even ran his fingers through his hair as she mentioned its color, a bit surprised at that fact bothered him a little. He chuckled lightly as she said he should go to college and flicked his cigarette away. He stayed silent for a moment, his eyes directed towards the ground and a tired expression on his face. Soon he took a deep breath and shook his head. "I had a farm, but I haven't been there since I was ten. To many... bad memories," he said, his voice hesitant towards the end as he rubbed his throat, his mother returning to his thoughts. "And it's true I have a good family, mostly a foster family, but a family nonetheless. Honestly most people would think I was insane for leaving all that behind and coming to this shithole," he paused as he swallowed any hesitation before sighing and hanging his head, rubbing the back of his head as a sad smile rest on his face. "If I'm going to be honest though, the longer I stayed there the more it was killing me. Hell, if I stayed I'd probably be dead by now," he chuckled bitterly before looking back up to her with a dull smile and his eyes suddenly heavy.

"I couldn't do it anymore, it was to painful to stay there, even with so many blessings surrounding me. I had to leave, I had to make my own path. Even if I die in this war, at least I'll die knowing I died following my goals and not at home, drowning in my own sadness," he sighed again and rubbed his lower jaw, noticing a small stubble of hair beginning to come in. He looked back up to her and shrugged. "Plus it's not like I don't have plans after this. I heard I could go to school if I survive the war so I was gonna go to rise in the ranks," he smirked as he tapped the side of his head and took the bottle back from her. "See, I can think ahead," he chuckled lightly before taking a large swig of rum with pleasure.

Luke spoke, yet Inès kept her head down, eyes fixated on the picture. Two earthheads, she could only assume, from the grainy filter of the black-and-white photograph. They were cute things, though, Inès thought. She was supposed to be the "baby" of the family, yet she did all of the raising, she thought. Secretly, Inès had always wondered what it was like to have siblings, actual siblings. Guy was...distant. In many ways, notwithstanding the physical nature of him being an ocean away. No, Inès always found him more of an afterthought. Truth be told, often times she had to actively recall she had someone to call a brother, for she shared him in blood only halfway, and in bond none whatsoever. To have someone - never mind two people - there with you, looking with you and there after you...Inès felt jealousy.

Neither could she condone his methodology, for Inès knew she was going to do nothing in a factory or mill. Continue to barely escape poverty, most likely, and otherwise let her talents and passions alike squander to so-called "realities of the world", as Inès did demean them. Life had their complications, and...Inès knew she made it no easier in many of those times. Yet, she knew it was what she had to do; Doing otherwise would have wasted so much more.

She folded her wrist over, tilting the photograph back over to Luke. A faint grin plastered on her face, the shocktrooper made eye contact, slightly melancholic. A chuckle she shared with him over his comments on thinking, and Inès shared her thoughts as well, while on the line of thinking. "They're cute." she complimented, trading the picture for the rum, "I...hope it works out for you, then. I just...want to go back to the ring, I think. There's...there's something about it, like you say. It's not like war. When you lose in a fight there, it's because the other person's just better than you, and you can use that to get better. The tricks are...not "honorable." Heh...I suppose they're creative. You can admire them. You can't admire poison clouds."

"And...and when you finally win a fight, and you have the whole crowd chanting your name, it's..." Inès smiled wide. A smile Luke never thought was possible. Genuine, whole, warm. "It's amazing to feel. It's so...flattering. It's like...everything doesn't matter, but that one moment. You have fans. People look up to you. Somebody you have never met will go and say, "Oh my God, Inès, you're amazing!", and it's the most humbling thing."

Luke ran his thumb over his picture of his sisters and smiled softly before looking back up to Ines as she said she wanted to go back to the ring. He nodded in agreement, as she went on about the perks of being a fighter he couldn't help but find her love for the ring amusing. He paused though as she caught him off guard with a smile, a real smile. He froze for a second, silently admitting her smile was quite warming. It even looked adorable as she continued on about fighting and chuckled as she gave an impression of a fan calling her amazing. He smiled and cupped his hands together as he leaned forward with a sigh. "I can only imagine the feeling. The only thing people say to me is, *'You asshole!', or 'Put your pants on!' Something along those lines anyways," he chuckled with a shrug. "Who knows, maybe one day I can be your opponent in the ring, see which ones better. The country boy or the city girl," he smirked in amusement. "But I'll definitely have to see you in the ring. I have a strange urge to see the great Gante Argente in action."

"Gante Argente isn't my name." she corrected, "It's a title. It means, "silver glove". All it means is that I'm good enough to be called maître." Before continuing, Inès realized using more Francian terminology was going to do Luke no favors. Quickly, she adjusted herself to an addendum. "...that means, "master"." she finished.

A small chuckle escaped him as he was corrected and held up his hands in defeat, his smile widening a bit in amusement. He arched a brow as she clarified what it meant and laughed. "Master eh? Well I guess it fits, your slaps definitely feel different from other women that have hit me. I just thought you were freakishly strong and had big hands," he laughed again before shaking his head with a sigh. Luke found himself staring off in the distance for a moment before looking back to Ines with a small frown. He glanced to her blue hair for a moment and back to her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh and rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, this may be the rum talking but... I should probably..." he paused for a moment before biting back any hesitation and continuing. "Apologize about before. Ya know, when we entered the city," he said with a small frown and glancing away as he apologized. "Probably wasn't the best idea for first introductions," he chuckled bitterly.

Inès glimmered over his apology, instead swiftly taking a stiff drink from the bottle, always accompanied by her coarse coughing, of course. Yet, as she looked up, it was not of acceptance of the typical type, but of, again, misguidance. Luke's series of faux pas were bewildering to the Francian before him - or if it so comforted him in this moment, the Darcsen before him - that she truly did believe it was the rum that was speaking. Rum-speak was not always negative, as she knew from her mother, and even could show to reflect who Luke really was. If he was who he really was, then he would need to face the issues that came with dignity, not run from them like the coward he eyed away from.

"Spare me." Inès commented, waving it away like it were a fly in the air, "If there's someone you should apologize to, it's Jean."

She fumed her eyes around, slowly simmering them to a steady, cooler burn. Her head shook once, setting the bottle aside for a more serious point of discussion. Luke need not make contact nor gesture, for Inès seemed to know full well what objections he might have toward the idea, and, so like a sister, gave him the steady stare that demanded he stop running from responsibility. "...he...may not be the bravest. But you don't need bravery. We need to survive. He's just...not..."

Inès fumbled, stumbling over the right words while the rum clouded her mind. "...it would mean a lot to him if you did. And...you don't want to have the person in charge of reporting to the people who promote you on their bad side." Inès reminded him.

Luke cringed slightly as she mentioned Jean, another person who was due an apology. He looked back to her as she put the bottle down and rubbed the back of his neck as she explained why Jean was due in apology. He felt like a child being lectured to after doing something wrong, but he may have deserved it. He sighed as she finished and nodded his head. "I know I need to say something, I know that," he said as he rubbed his forehead as his mind started to cloud up a bit. "It's not like I don't like the guy. He obviously cares for the team and that always a good thing, but it's just..." he paused for a moment before looking around to see if anyone was close enough to hear. He leaned in closer and looked Ines straight in the eyes. "It's how he leads is what I don't like. I understand he's in charge and there's no changing that, but the way does things just, well, bothers me," he said before shaking his head.

"For example, whenever we move out through the city he mostly takes point. To some that's not to bad, but think about it, we're surrounded by pissed off and dug in Imps that are just waiting for us to walk around some corner to fill us with lead and who'll be the first one around that corner? The man on point, a.k.a Jean. Plus, that Green Fox fuck is somewhere around here and hunting for people like him. I know it sounds crazy, but I'd prefer if he'd put someone like me up there to take point," he said as he tapped his chest. "I'm just a private, he's a lieutenant and the leader of our squad. If he goes down, then the whole squads fucked," he says before gesturing towards the whole camp filled with his team and patted his chest. "If I go down then all that happens is that you all are going to need a new Rifleman. To the higher ups, his life is more valuable than mine. And again, at the risk of sounding foolish or crazy, I agree," he said with a shrug and leaning back. "My job is to follow orders, so who's gonna give me any damn orders when our team leader has a fucking hole between his eyes?" he finished and let out a small sigh, finally done with his rant.

In a grim display, Inès responded, "I've had that happen." She sits for a moment. Her eyes stare off, unfocused. "...it's...you don't last long...if you can't think for yourself." Inès simply finished. Whatever Luke had done, it...struck her.

Luke noticed the far off stare from Ines and realized he may have said something to upset her. A small sigh escaped him as he rubbed his hands and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm usually a happy drunk, not a downer," he apologized with a thin smile. He glanced up at her, frowning a bit at her staring off. "You alright?" he asked, slight concern in his voice.

"...yes, I-"



LOOK OUT, MA'AM!

Her sight went blurry. Her ears went deaf. She was somewhere she didn't know and she knew not how.



"...I'm fine." Inès snapped back Her eyes blinked, settling back in as they adjusted to the tent's vision. Slowly, she repurposed herself, repositioning back to a more comfortable stance. Facing Luke forward, she looks at him, smiling slightly back.

"Jean is...still learning." she insisted, giving a light shrug to him, "But if you're worried about it, you should...you know..." Her hands motion, circling as she seemed to search for the words. "Let him know. He would...appreciate it."

Luke was a bit relieved to see her snap out of whatever trance she was in. He didn't want to lose his drinking buddy already. He arched a brow before taking the bottle of rum and taking a decent swig and nearly choking as she said he should just tell Jean his thoughts of commanding the team. "You crazy? Last time I tried to point out any of my higher ups flaws I got stuck with latrine duty. With my tooth brush," he shivered at the memory and sighed. "Besides, it's clear the man doesn't enjoy my company, which is normal really, but I doubt he'd want a guy like me to tell him how to handle his team," Luke rubbed his chin in thought before shaking his head. "But it's true it can't go on like this. Sooner or later he'll need to change how he does things. Fine, I'll tell him when I come up with an apology," he said before giving her a smirk and a grateful nod.

Inès sighed. "Do you want me to come with you?" she offered.

A bark of laughter escaped Luke and he shook his head with a grin. "Do I look like a kid? No, I'll tell him when I'm ready. For now though, lets relax and celebrate our late birthdays huh?" he chuckled before taking another swing and handing her the bottle.

"If you say so." she relegated, motioning the bottle back, then stopping halfway. She peered inside the darker bottle, gauging what was left, it seemed, and in those swirls of amber, she seemed to set it back.

"How's the new girlfriend?" Speaking of relaxing...

"W-what?" he asked as before pausing for a moment, arching a brow towards Ines in slight confusion. "What new girlfriend?" he questioned, truthfully unaware who this Darcsen was talking about.

Inès laughed, throwing herself back as the precious moment came over her. Intoxication likely had something to do with making the moment significantly warmer and fuzzier to her, yet detract from that notion it certainly did not. Realigning herself, Inès sat up from her position, posing a hand forward. "The sandhead you got to see in her natural state." Inès reminded him, obviously signifying Diana.

For a moment Luke remained clueless as to who she was talking about and tilted his head in slight confusion as he tried to remember who she was talking about. The booze in his system didn't help in his efforts to remember. Soon though he realized what she was talking about and coughed a bit, clearing his throat and looking away as the memory of that night of shame. His cheeks reddened a bit as he remembered a nude Diana, her soft lips against his, her perfect hour glass figure and her massive pair of- he shook his head clear to get the thoughts out of his head and frowned a bit towards Ines. "One, that little shrimp isn't my girlfriend. Two, that was nothing but a bet gone bad," he stated with a firm nod, though he still looked embarrassed about the topic. "I could never be with a woman like that. To naïve," he said with the shake of his head.

"Hehe, alright." Inès giggled, taking the bottle while she held it loosely between her fingers. Quickly, she posed another question back to Luke.

"Then what's your type?" she asked. Her eyebrow raised, sly and smug while she asked. If one simple remembrance was going to turn him red, then his tastes would steam him to a lobster bisque. Preparing for the onslaught, she laughed in attempt to break up the mood.

Luke rubbed the back of his neck as she asked him his type and glanced away as he tried to think up a reply. What was his type? As he thought about it Luke realized that he's never really thought about what type of woman he'd prefer. He's never had time to date, plus he's never been that much of a sweet talker. Luke cleared his throat and shrugged. "I never really thought about it honestly," he muttered, feeling a tad embarrassed by his reply. "I guess someone who's loyal, maybe someone who's in uniform. Some of the women officers in their formal uniforms always look good," he said before shaking his head and looking to Ines with a nervous smile. "Honestly I've... never really been with any woman. I was always working to really find someone," he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. When the rum wears off he'll probably regret telling her his lack of experience with women, but his mind was to clouded to care.

Loyalty and uniforms. Where had she heard those ones before?

The reminiscence forced Inès to grin. Hearing Luke display and think on his exact tastes was, in all honesty, a heavy subject, if Inès felt fair. Such a discussion would warrant some mutual degree of understanding with one another, as well as being accustomed with one another to the point of allowing both parties to speak freely on the subject. The topic seemed...pleasant, almost, for Inès had much on the mind in the area, especially in the past month, and in many ways needed someone to talk to regarding those events. Freya was kind, and Franz was understanding, true, yet third opinions relegated to the status quo, and allowed an outsider's onlook into the state of affairs; Such a dialectic Inès thought she required, time to time.

At this end, the shock trooper giggled back, nodding along to Luke's most modest admittance in regards to his romantic history. Everyone needed to start somewhere, Inès knew. "Don't worry. Women can be a headache!" Inès tittered loudly, widening her smile as she made her bold declaration. A swig back, and Inès did cough once more, rupturing out into a steady voice as she foisted the bottle back unto Luke. "Here's to all the lovely women in our lives." she guffawed.

Luke chuckled as Ines said women could be a headache and nodded in agreement before taking back the rum as she handed back to him. He raised the bottle up and smirked towards Ines. "To ladies then! God bless em all," he chuckled before taking in another decent swig of rum, shuttering slightly as a satisfying shiver ran up his spine. He looked to the bottle and shook his head to see how much was left. "If only we had more than one bottle," he said with sigh before remembering something he had gotten a few weeks back. He dug into the back of his pockets before pulling out a golden ring with a small red gem in the middle. He looked to his bottle and back to Ines, bouncing the ring up and down in his hand. Luke soon shrugged and extended the ring towards her. "Here, since you got me a nice little present then I should at least return the favor," he said before he nodded to the ring. "Not sure if you're much of jewelry girl, but it could be nice to punch people with it on."

A ring, he said? It caught her interest, of course, yet a ring for half a bottle of rum felt like an odd deal to be making. She picked the ring between her thumb and finger, rotating it about lightly as she twisted its glean in the light. Even through its grimy filter spent in a wartime pocket, it still did maintain its illustrious shine, refracting a radiant red rose through the setting. Her smile dissipated, softening, lowering to neutrality the longer she stared into it. She seemed to become focused, in a sense, as if she were reading something inscribed minutely along the gilded band. In short time, Inès would retract, nodding once as she grinned in warm appreciation to the brownhair.

"...thank you." she softly thanked, wrapping the ring in some manner of cloth she dug from her bag before sticking it securely in a side pouch. Luke could swear her voice held charm to it, quaint and soft, like a mother or sister's comfort, as if the softness of her voice blanketed Luke in some manner of appreciation he never thought possible from a Darcsen.

"You know, I-..."

Inès paused herself, looking down with a frown. So like her, it was, to bring up the harsh when so soon ago did she attempt to lighten the mood. Yet, there were some questions that needed answering, and to what other occasion she could afford responses, Inès never knew for certain. Her eyes level once again with Luke's, glistening with a slight watery softness.

"... I have...never really...dressed myself up." Inès noted to Luke, "I've never been able to afford it. And the one time I could..." Inès laughed shortly. The hushed tone sprawled about melancholy, yet clear nostalgia. "It was for my sixteenth birthday. And...hehe...that's how I came out to my mom."

Luke's eyebrows rose a bit in slight surprise to hear she never dressed up and gave small smirk of amusement, though it dulled as she told him the reason. He was aware she may have had it tough growing up, but for some reason it still surprised him a bit. His smile softened slightly as she told him the only time she managed to dress herself up and chuckled lightly. "Must have been a good birthday," he said before looking at Ines with a arched brow, his eyes scanning her appearance while rubbing the bottom of his chin before shrugging with a smirk. "I bet you'd look nice if you threw on a dress right now," he stated with a grin.

"Shut up." she smirked back, lightly pushing him while she teased him back. The flushed pink of her cheeks went well with her blue hair, though. Maybe a nice blue dress with pink highlights? Or perha-

"Tell me when Luke started to want to see a dark haired girl in a pretty dress." Inès poked at him, a wide, laughing smile on her face.

Luke laughed as Ines questioned when he want to see a dark haired woman in a dress and shook his head with a smirk. "When this rum entered my system I think. I always want odd things when I'm not sober," he chuckled before shrugging. "But you would look good in one," he said truthfully before smirking in amusement and letting out a small sigh. "Definitely look better than me if I wore a dress."

"But which one of us would look better in a suit?" Inès queried, raising an eyebrow as if this were the real question to be answered.

A grin came to Luke's face as he thought about her question and chuckled. "Well I think that's an easy answer..." From there the two soldiers, both once indifferent towards one another, sat within the tent bantering and laughing with each other. Time seemed to escape them as the two enjoyed each others company, even when they ran out of rum they found new topics to keep their small party going. As the day progressed the two kept to themselves, neither of them concerned what was outside of Luke's tent, mostly thanks to the birthday rum. They didn't even noticed as the evening began to roll around. Luke himself nearly forgot there was even a war going on outside. This was the first time in a long time that he's actually enjoyed himself, though he never thought in his life time he'd have a Darcsen drinking buddy. Ines was... she was different from the other Darcsens he's encountered in past. Sure she was bit of a pain at first, but now drinking with her Luke couldn't help but start to like the woman. It was probably the rum making him think that, but for now it didn't matter. The two of them were celebrating their late birthdays together. As comrades.

Luke Godfrey


“Come on let’s move already!” Luke barked in frustration as the shit show around them only grew worse. As the rest of the team prepared to move out he took a moment to catch his breath, his body feeling heavy as his exhaustion from fighting his way back to the Inn began to take its toll. He wanted to sit down, to have a drink and get this day over with already. The only thing stopping him unfortunately was the cloud of yellow death and the hail of gunfire from the Imps trying to kill them all. He gritted his teeth in annoyance before looking down to the gunned downed civilians he had missed and felt a ball of anger from in his stomach. The poor dumb bastards. He couldn’t shake their lifeless gazes staring up towards him, looking to him and silently asking why he left them behind. “Fuck,” he muttered in anger before hearing Jean give the order to move seeing everyone finally beginning to head out the back. He let everyone head out first before following after them, bolting out the back door only to come to a skidding halt.

His eyes widened a bit from behind his mask as he looked to a crazed Franz going berserk on some poor Imp with his knife. He just kept sinking his knife into the still corpse, the look of crazed blood lust in his eyes, even as Isaac tried to bring him back to his senses. “God damn,” Luke muttered as he watched the scene unfold before another crack of a rifle filled the air. He gritted his teeth and glared towards his crazed squadmate, a ball of frustration and anger filling his chest. “God damn it! We don’t have time for this! Someone drag the crazy bastard and lets fucking move already!” he barked through his mask while he scanned their clouded surroundings, watching out for any more company. Every second he wasted trying to get through to the bastard Luke grew even more annoyed. He scoffed in an frustration when Ines tried to get through to him and finally could less of a damn. “You handle that crazy fucker than!” he shouted before finally bolting away with the rest of the team. As he ran from the chaos he looked back to the Inn, it’s silhouette growing more and more distant within the yellow mist of death. He forced his eyes away and gritted his teeth. Such a nice start to his birthday.




Cool, refreshing, quiet. It’s all Luke could feel at the moment as he kept his head within a barrel of water to wake himself up and help his small hangover. He let his mind drift as his head remained in the cool water, the stress and exhaustion from the past few weeks dulled in this small moment. The running, the fighting, the many sleepless nights, all of it seemed so distant as he let the waters cool his nerves. If he could he’d stay like this for the rest of the war, but his ambition relied on the struggles and horrors of this war. To gain his goal he had to go through hell first. Finally his required air so he pulled his head from the barrel and took in a deep breath. He chuckled in between breaths and shook his head like a dog, the water flying from his wet hair. “God, if only I can start all my days off like this. A nice hangover, no bullets flying over head and some actual grub in my stomach. Yep, a peaceful day in the Federation!” he barked with laughter before drying his face off with the towel hanging around his neck.

With a sigh of relief he snatched up his shirt, a bit thankful he took it off before dunking his head since it would be soaking by now. He draped it over his shoulder, to lazy to put it back on and turned to look around the camp. A small smirk came to his face to see a camp filled with soldiers that didn’t want to kill him, well not right now anyway. He gave a soft chuckle and began to return to his teams spot in the camp. As he walked through the camp he continued to look around, seeing soldiers get as much rest and relaxation they needed before they were all given the order to head out. He spotted a few games of poker, laughing and banter between comrades and few people simply getting some well earned rest. This day was definitely starting off nice, but he couldn’t help but want something to spice it up a bit.

Well it seemed he’d get that bit of spice once he returned to hear a familiar voice calling out for Michael. As he returned to the camp he glanced over to see an upset Middleton directing his unpleasant attitude towards his comrade. Luke arched a brow and smirked as he passed by the whole scene, not able to hold back a small chuckle as he glanced towards Michael. It wasn’t like he enjoyed seeing him get chewed out, but it was still a bit entertaining to watch someone else get yelled at other than him. He just hoped the Captain didn’t get onto him for being shirtless and a wet mess. He wasn’t exactly presentable right now. He shrugged it off though and decided he’d deal with it if the issue comes up. A small frown came to his face though as he noticed people reading letters and looked for the source. He spotted the man handing them out and patted his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey there, anything for me?” the soldier looked to him and arched a brow.

“You from this squad?” he asked looking him up and down. Luke rolled his eyes and held up his arms as if that was a silly question.

“Well I wouldn’t be here if wasn’t now would I?” the soldier frowned a bit and huffed.

“Well aren’t you a charming fellow,” he said, his sarcasm oozing from his tone. Luke sighed and rotated his hand to hurry things along.

“Do you have any mail for me or not?” the soldier reluctantly asked his name and pulled out a letter before departing, giving Luke an unfriendly glance as he left. He only returned a cocky grin before looking to the letter to see that it was from home. A small smile came to his face before finding a place to sit and tear open his letter. He arched a brow as something fell out and quickly picked up a picture. A soft smile came to his face as he saw a pair of familiar smiling face in the photo and chuckled lightly. It’s felt like an eternity since he’s seen his sweet little sisters smiling face. A warm feeling of happiness filled his chest as he stared at the photo of the two of them eating together, noticing the meal his foster mother would always make for special celebrations. He wanted to be there so badly, to be in a warm home, surrounded by loved ones and enjoying life. A small sigh left him before he placed the photo in his pocket and opened the letter.



Luke finished reading the letter and let a soft smile stay on his face. It was the softest smile he’s had in months and he couldn’t help but feel happiness as he read every word. A small chuckle escaped as he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket before digging out a pack of cigarettes along with a few matches he managed to swipe off a few drinking buddies of his last night. As he lit the match he wondered if they managed to get away from their superiors when they came to break up their small party. Luke filled his lungs with the sweet chemicals and used the towel still hanging around his neck to dry off a few clumps of wet hair. He threw his shirt aside onto the rest of his gear and snatched up his rifle. With a pleasant hum, a newly lit cigarettes between his smiling lips and a happy feeling in his chest he began to clean his rifle, the pleasure in maintaining his weapons quality only making his mood greater for the day.

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