AlbaGuBrath
Nova Squid
Raku
Ribbit
AlbaGuBrath
, just roleplay freely till around 11:30 am the next day INTO the roleplay, because thats when my company will be arriving and then we can put togheter both the timelines again and head altogheter to the front ok?
Daunting_Doggo
Just explain the "walking ones" thing, I will make a plan, and we both go to sleep, then just make a post about you waking up and heading to the french fomration getting ready to head out, I will then post about me getting there AFTER YOU, so you might just mix the "going to sleep" with the "walking up" post.
From my knowledge all soldiers are gathering up to the forest getting ready for the assault, you most likely can mingle with other armies, especially if you are a new auxiliary private so semi-new to the whole situation cough cough
Amiens, France
March 20, 1918
Conor Culaan, British Army
As soon as he and the other men got everything set up in their makeshift camp, Conor slumped down to the ground with a sigh and lay there staring up into the clouds. It had been a long day, even though it was still light yet, and he was grateful for the chance to get some rest. His feet were numb, his shoulders burned, and he was pretty sure a stone had worked its way under the arch of his left foot. With an effort, he pushed himself up and dumped out the offending object. It fell in his palm with a soft plomp and he considered it for a moment before hurling it as far away from him as he could throw. It bounced off somebody’s helmet with a clink, but the soldier didn’t appear to notice.
After a moment, a nagging thought reminded him that he still had work to do, it wouldn’t do to keep sitting around like a knot on a log. He scowled darkly at his still-full pack, mentally willing it to take care of itself and leave him be. It sat there in obstinate stillness, returning his glare with passive oblivion. Finally, he forced himself to pull it over to him and began carefully removing and sorting his things.
It took a while, but eventually he had everything set out and ready. He surveyed them with an uneasy eye, wondering which, if any, would see use soon. He certainly hoped for the latter, that there would be no need of his services anytime soon, but he knew that was highly unlikely. Battle was expected any day now, if the rumors spreading like wildfire were anything to go by. There were thousands of Germans headed their way now, as he’d been told. Others said that they were stuck somewhere, and the Allied armies would soon trap them in their holes. Still others, sitting around fires with dark and baleful eyes, predicted their slaughter before the end of the week, abandoned by unfeeling comrades and ignorant commanders.
Conor didn’t know whether any of these tales were true, but he didn’t like the sound of them. Impulsively, he began to check his supplies again and mentally reviewed the lessons he’d learned about treating the wounded. But there was one thing that he couldn’t prepare for… Treating a real, live, person. He’d practiced on dummies and actors before, of course, but never somebody actually in need of help. What if he didn’t know what to do? What if they died because he did something wrong? He shuddered and cleaned his instruments again.
After rearranging his equipment for the fourth time in a row, the young man pushed himself away from them with a grimace, rubbing his hands over his face. He was tired from walking, stressed from apprehension, anxious from his maddening thoughts… He needed a rest from himself, he needed to find some company. There were many soldiers milling around the campsite in various states of dress; some still in their full uniform, others in more relaxed garb. Unconsciously, he avoided many of the soldiers wearing his own uniform, save for a few that he recognised as friends. After a time, he spotted a tall, furry figure standing around with a group of men.
As he searched his memory for a face to connect with the voice, Conor thought of an American soldier he’d caught a glimpse of shortly after they’d arrived. The young man looked normal enough, but Conor thought he had somewhat unusual features and had smelled vaguely of wet dog. Seeing the stranger’s muzzle split his face at the ears, Conor felt a grin of his own spread across his own face. His guess had been right; he had found a werewolf!
While not completely unheard of, the wolf-blood was mostly a legend in his own country, only occasionally showing itself in reality. His Granda had been the first in several generations, even in a family line known for being uncommonly feral. The chance of getting to meet another one was exciting, so the young man began to edge his way over to where the assembled group was talking. He considered mentioning his Granda to the soldier, but decided against it with a mischievous grin. He’d wait and see if the other man noticed, see what he would make of the unusual hybrid.
(Care if I come chat with you?)
Nova Squid
said that the British were supposed to be on the front as well.
Carson is actually out on the frontlines, and I believe
AlbaGuBrath
needs to change their post; after all it just describes a generic camp and that can fit the reserve trenches as well.
Daunting_Doggo
Can you make so that after that "Some time later" he just wakes up and goes to the french formation getting ready to move out? So I can put up a post of Charles ordering all the men to march to the front? or shall I do it at once?
My intentions may not have been clear, I actually wanted to say that Hieremias is at the location on a truck ready. so do go ahead and post.
Daunting_Doggo
sorry for the delay, gonna post it now.
now, now it took me about a day to write up my post, so don't rush take your time my dude
Daunting_Doggo
well, gonna post it tommorow then, I will just go to sleep or sumthen, tired asf
I don't mind though I slight bend on the more interaction, just been waiting for azantis to post
