• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern Okkulten Wald


Edward Feintofen


Edward wiped away the tears and stood up. He was not going to let his past tourment him now. He grabbed his STG and his Walther and some ammunitions and headed out of the tent. Before he exited he heard the Lieutenant say something about Cologne. Cologne is Edward's home city. He knew that his family had moved out of the city in fear of bombers but he would hate going back. Edward yelled out "Vhy do we have to be going to Cologne? Out of all places ve just have to-". He cut himself off as he saw the general walk up and nodded to him. "General. I vould salute you but my hands are a little full" he said to him. His STG was slung over his back, his Walther in its holster, his bag, and the ammunitions he was carrying wasn't exactly light. 
 

SGT. KONSTANTIN JOSEF SOKOLOV


He would've had it out with the boy, right there and then if it wasn't for the intervention of their threatening Captain. Konstantin wouldn't risk not being able to go, over a fight. After all, Sabine was going. And he'd promised himself to keep an eye on her. "I wouldn't need a good reason to strangle you." The Russian replied with an icy smile, standing up to grab his pack and pull on the Russian greatcoat. Lingering with the scent of feminine fragrances. "Nor would I start believing z'that bears can walk on two legs and start playing poker. Don't underestimate a human, because I assure you, we're a lot fucking harder to kill z'than bears." Flicking the end of his cig on the Corporal's boots, he followed Sabine out the tent. Reaching her side swiftly, in barely a few steps thanks to his stride and height. At the sight of his superiors, like every good Army hound, his boots clicked together and a salute was issued. His gun tightly grasped to his side, slung over his chest.


 


Sokolov, then rolled his eyes discreetly toward the heavens. And they had to look after a doctor too? He just hoped she could fire a gun. Not one of those pacifist idiots. He'd seen them get pinned. Fuck the rules of War, it seemed they couldn't even collect the injured and dead nowadays without being massacred. 



The music was uplifting, alas, the adrenaline still worked its way through to sink in his stomach with a sickly sensation. He hated leaving camp the most, knowing exactly what was out there. He'd seen them. In the fires of Berlin. He nudged Sabine, glancing down with a half-smile to help take his mind off - "I bet z'there's more than one thing to do in zhe apocalypse." A wink comedically passed his expression. Waiting for the moment they could all clamber into that godforsaken vehicle and get on the move to their early graves. At least he'd be able to have quite the family reunion up in the clouds. 


 


@Rui




 

Sabine


The Parisian smiled towards her companion, elbowing his ribs playfully. 


"Cuddle me, you big lump." She demanded, picking up his massive arm and wrapping it around her. 


"I'm cold already. This trip is going to be hell." 


She sighed bitterly, nuzzling her head into the Russian's chest.


"You know, I was wrong before. You aren't as cold as your country, actually," she smiled up at him adoringly, "You're actually quite warm." 

 
Everett "Yoshi" Yoshioka


Yoshi let out a sigh of displeasure, pulling his body up and over the halftrack bed, legs dangling freely off its side. Hands buried in his lap, he returned the doctors bitter stare, before shifting towards the general. "And why is the good doctor accompanying us? We're a forward scouting unit, not some research party." He complained, collecting the cigarette offered by the good Captain, twisting the paper device between his fingers. 


"And you still are." The General replied, also taking up Captain Worthen's offer. With a flick of his lighter, he took a long drag, before tapping the ashes onto the dirt below. "But this also offers us a new light in the study of these foul beasts. Miss Bubnova here has written one of the most accurate theses on our enemy, and that was before they had even exposed themsel-" The General was cut-off by the protests of Yoshi, who had since fully dismounted the vehicle. "Before?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, she's a crazy person, huh? She even a doctor?" He asked, stepping forward towards Kvetka, eyes still locked upon the General. "In the official sense, no, lieutenant. But miss Bubnova here has more than proven herself to be one of our leading experts. Should you wish, I am sure I can find another squadron willing to take your mission in this operation." He threatened, flicking the used cigarette onto the ground as he crossed his arms. 


@Romulus Scipio
 

SGT. KONSTANTIN JOSEF SOKOLOV


He obliged to her demand, which didn't take long. Caving in to wrap his arms around Sabine's petite figure, drawing her into the warmth of his own. Konstantin leant in, dropping a kiss on her left temple whilst they stood out in the cold - waiting to get a move on. "We'll be fine. Although it'll be cold, and z'there'll be demons. So yes - Hell is zhe right word." The Russian remarked in good-humour.


 


Glancing down to meet the Frenchwoman's gaze, Sokolov smiled. "Cold country, warm people." He shrugged, drawing an absent-minded caress over the soft rosy cheekbones of Sabine's delicate features. "But I feel better knowing zhis is just a scouting mission. Hopefully we'll not encounter many of z'those things. But on zhe flipside, for a Frenchie, you're certainly unlike any I expected to meet." Konstantin chuckled.


 


@Rui
 

James Jefferson


James kept his stone gaze on Sok the entire time, until he left the tent. When the threat of a lower rank popped up by the angry captain, James couldn't help but to tilt his head, unapproved. "Bluff.." he said, under a heavy wave of breath that possibly he only understood. There's civilians fighting in this new army, fucking civilians; he said to himself, glaring at the captain and back to Sok. Why would they take out an experienced corporal out because some commie was testing his skills of war? "Captain must have a higher thought about himself, before those bellow his rank." James thought to himself as he stood. This brief train train of thought made James have a dislike for the new Captain. A shame, he had thought that they'd get along just fine considering they were both Americans. Either way, this was perfect for him. No fight, but the commie now knows that James isn't to be messed with. Without a doubt, this hurt the friendship that might've been... but he didn't care, well, at least for now.


 


"Gah, I'm surrounded by the people I hate most..." he continued to think to himself. He shook it off, briskly walking to his duffel bag. He slung his jacket on, buttoning it up completely. Grabbing the rifle, he checked that it was fine, empty, and somewhat clean. Wasn't much time to clean the damn thing. Rummaging through his bag, he had to make a mental checklist to see if everything was there. He does this routinely whenever he's heading out. Always has a fear that someone would take his stuff. After completing the process, he slid the bag over his shoulder and started heading for the exit of the tent, looking slightly down due to his disgruntled mood.


 


He eyed his deck of cards, still laying static on the table from earlier today. It wasn't too long ago that Sok and his woman were playing a humorous game of strip poker as pals. Letting out a long sigh and a "Fucking hell." in a dry, and grumpy voice; he picked up the cards and slipped into his pocket. He didn't want to look at them, but he also couldn't leave the damn things behind. Lot's of memories with that specific deck, and he plans on keeping that beloved deck with him to the grave.


 


He ducked, walking out of the tent finally. His eyes scanning the busy camp. It wasn't too long before he locked onto the Jap, talking to a very high ranked man. He was curious, but decided to leave it to the leader of the crew. Those high ranks just aren't fun. He gave a very low effort salute and went on his not so merry way.
 

Fred Worthen


 


Fred watched the LT protest over the addition to the squad. He remained silent ad took a few puffs from his cigarette, eying Sokolov and Jefferson clamber into the half-track. That was everyone, all that was left for Fred was for him to grab his kit and then the squad could get rolling. He rolls his shoulders, a quiet cracking sound emanating from his bones as they shifted. He tried to make a motion to the LT with a "cut it out" motion when the General wasn't looking his way. Generals sure as shit weren't the kind to simply drop an idea, especially if they idea was their own


"I'm sure she'll be useful for us, LT. Thinking we just relent on this one and get wheels up." He prayed the LT would just give in, last thing they wanted was a pissed off General remembering their squad's name not for their abilities, but their bull-headed attitude. He eyed the Doctor up again, still convinced she was an absolute liability. In the grand scheme of things though, he figured it didn't matter. They already had a whole crew of liabilities, so what's another addition. She had remained fairly quiet during the whole argument, and was wondering if she was going to speak up and defend herself or just remain seemingly lifeless. 


He took one last drag of his cigarette before getting the burning edges of the paper dangerously close to scolding his fingers. He drops the little remaining tobacco on the ground and snuffs out the burning paper with the bottom of his shoes. "Let's make the magic happen, LT. Would hate to have darkness hit before we get to the objective."


@Rabbutt
 

[SIZE= 26px]Sabine [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]Sabine smiled, basking in the warmth of her big grizzly bear. At the mention of 'Frenchies' her head popped up, a pout forming on her face. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]"What is that supposed to mean, visage de merde?" she grumbled, punching his chest lightly in annoyance. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 14px]She stuck her tongue out at him, "And I thought all Russians were cold, drunk idiots, but apparently that's just you." She teased, grinning at him. [/SIZE]

 

SGT. KONSTANTIN JOSEF SOKOLOV
"You're not wrong 
z'there." Sokolov laughed, leaning back slightly in his seat. The half-track bed, somewhat comfortable although cold. "Well, we thought z'there would be more snails involved if I'm honest. But z'they got zhe beautiful French girls right. So I can't complain." 


Relaxing into the shared warmth of himself and Sabine, he rolled his neck back and sighed. "If z'they take any longer, we'll be z'there after dark. And I don't want z'those things creeping up on us again. It happened when we retreated from Berlin." A dramatic shudder passed over him. "Nyet, I'd rather be facing a beating."


 


@Rui

 

Edward Feintofen


Edward, after placing the ammo in the bed of the half-track, climbed up. He let out a long sigh as he sat down. "Looks like I'm heading back home. Fucking Cologne." he said aloud. His family, his brothers, his sisters, his mother and the father he hated for what he did, was made in Cologne. "At least ve are getting out and shooting something. Ve can look forward to that" Edward said as he fiddled with the locket. "Damn you Hitler" he said as he pulled out his canteen and sipped.


 

 

James Jefferson


James put his foot up and into the half-track, slinging his deflect bag to his side of where he'd be sitting down. He made sure to sit as far away from Sok as he could get. The anger still lingered, he didn't want to be in there with him. Hell, he'd rather sit next to six Nazis at this point. He just hoped the damn vehicle would start moving and they'd be out shooting shit. Rest time is going to be painful from now on considering ol' vodka giant was probably planning on strangling James in his sleep. He sighed, shaking his head and looking out at the busy camp.


 


Getting out and into battle was always exciting. Usually Jame's old American squad he led had gotten very rallied up with patriotism and heroism stuck in their heads. It really did feel like becoming a man, about to go out and put your life on the line for the greater good. "Those boys deserve so many medals.." he thought. He was a VERY good corporal and still is. Lower ranks would fight like Spartans from the ancient days of Greeks. Sure, some died, but the rush of battle kept them going. In fact; that get back up and fight mentality was what every corporal needed in order to do their job. He missed those days, but eh... what could he do? Best make the best out of what he had.
 

Sabine 


Sabine snickered and cringed at the mention of snails. Escargot wasn't her thing, persay. Actually, she found it plainly repulsive. At mention of the demons, though, her mood grew cold.


"Yes. They are awful at night." She murmured, burrowing even closer to the Russian giant. She didn't like to talk about it. She'd probably shared a bit of the tail over some liquor in the night, but never the full story of her time in Berlin and later München. It was too terrible to recall. 

 

Two hours later...


7 miles southwest of Aachen, Germany 




The crisp autumn air sent a chill throughout the open interior of the halftrack. The vehicle moved at a brisk pace, enough to outrun any shambling dead, but slow enough to appreciate the scenery (And, more importantly, keep the engine calm and unstressed). The surrounding landscape was surprisingly tranquil. The bloodied roadways and smoking buildings of the propaganda films were nowhere to be seen. One could almost forget the cause of the Solitude, if weren't for the occasional derelict car adorning the side of the road.


Everett "Yoshi" Yoshioka




The young lieutenant sat against the corner of the halftrack's bed, his coat draped over his body as a makeshift blanket. Head leaning against the metal interior, Yoshi watched the squad members with tired eyes. His gaze occasionally drifted to the ground, eyelids gently shutting before his body jerked back to life. At the forth occurrence, Yoshi let out a groan, and shifted his posture straight. 


"I think we entered Germany a little bit ago." The lieutenant yawned, stretching his arms out from his side. His eyes continued to shift amongst the group, taking extra care to release a scowl at the doctor in their presence. "So, you researched demons, huh?" Yoshi asked, reaching his hand down towards his pack and retrieving a small, copper-colored tin can. Fishing his bayonet, he jabbed at the top of the can, twisting until a sizable hole was created. "Wasn't sure if they'd give you a degree for that." He smirked, spearing a slice of orange on the tip of his blade. 


@Rui


@HumansArentReal


@Reaper 1-1


@Romulus Scipio


@TheBaneOfYou
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Fred Worthen


 


Fred sat on the left bench of the halftrack, a map strewn across his lap. He had his head tilted towards his right shoulder with his walkie-talkie crammed between the two, thumbing the talk button every-so-often, letting HQ know when they had entered a new grid. "Yuuuup." Fred spoke up, looking at the LT. "Just crossed over about 20 minutes ago." He scribbled down an X on a crossroad somewhere in front of them on the map in his lap. "It shouldn't be more than another 30 or so if we keep this pace up."


Still keeping his ear pressed to his radio, Fred began looking over his Thompson, ensuring his magazine was set properly and a round was lock and loaded. Being back on German soil made him incredibly uneasy, despite whatever "Master Plan" the Allied Command had cooked up. It wasn't their asses on the line, they got to sit back in a nicely vented tent a few miles back. The Captain watched the LT speak to the doctor with a smirk. He could tell he wasn't a fan of their new compatriot, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't really care either way if she tagged along or not, so long as she wasn't going to be a detriment. She hadn't said anything with Fred around yet, so he was wondering if she even spoke at all. He shrugged it off. He scooted down the bench slightly and got up behind Edward, who had been designated as the gunner on the halftrack. "Aye, Eddy, you see anything yet? How's it lookin'?" 


@Rabbutt


@Reaper 1-1
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Edward Feintofen


Edward had been watching the road behind him when Worthen came up behind him. He turned to look at him, leaving one hand on the MG. "Not much. A few stragglers here and there" he answered. He turned back around and gripped the gun. It was such a good feeling to be back in Germany. He could almost forget about the war, but the gun in his hands kept him in reality. He looked over his shoulder to Worthen and said "You know, I never vanted to be in this var. I never vanted to be a soldier. I vanted to be a scholar in Britain, maybe even go to America.". Edward wasn't lieing. He never wanted to be a soldier, his father wanted him to be. Edward looked forward again, dropping his head. "Damn this var" he said before looking back up.


 

 

James Jefferson


James had been looking at the floor or to is side, away from any of the other squad mates through most of the trip. It really wasn't like him, he always pressured to be extroverted for some reason. Being silent too long just drives him crazy. He's out numbered in this half track, seems like nobody approves of his cocky nature. What could he do? He had to speak, he just had to.


 


"Damn I hate when it gets quiet like this right here." he stated, not particularly directed at anyone in the vehicle, but at everyone "Seems shit likes to hit the fan when it does, I'd rather run into a hundred of those screaming abominations than to walk around in the silence."


 


He was satisfied with his statement, sitting back with another one of his signature cocky, prince charming smiles. Spreading his legs and getting as relaxed as he can be by sinking into the chair. Producing a statement was like a cigar to an addicted smoker for him, takes the stress off. He scanned the half track to how people would react to his statement. Particularly not looking at the Soviet man. It honestly was pretty clear he was deliberately keeping his eyes off the big, metal but hallow man.
 

Sabine


The Frenchwoman was awoken by the vehicle bumping, the movement jarring her small frame and shaking her from her sleep. A lovely phenomenon that had begun midway through the war was her lack of dreaming. Whenever she slept, she never dreamt. It was like sitting in a cinema show, and watching a black screen. She wasn't sure if it scared her or soothed her; perhaps a bit of both. At least she didn't have the nightmares anymore... 


She groaned and sat up, unknowingly elbowing her Russian pillow rather hardily in the gut. She winced, quickly apologizing. 


"Sorry! Sorry...cramped spaces...shit, are you alright, amour?" She asked, studying him with guilt laden eyes. 

 
Last edited by a moderator:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top