Camp Bermont… A huge army camp about 200 kilometres from the border. The amenities in here are plentiful, with supplies on one side, and an abundance of tents capable of housing tens of thousands on another. Lines of tanks and AMVs line by the entrance and a strict clearance keeps the camp spy-free.
…
Feel free to have already signed in or do the whole sign-in process.
I will NOT reply within minutes in order to keep everyone on the same pace.
The man in a gas mask muffled out curses and screams at the man at sign ins
“What do you mean i must show my face!”
Magnus was sitting in the back of the military truck, clenching his fingers. He was looking down, ignoring the other recruits. He was remembering his past, and in hindsight it seemed as though it all lead to this.
But he doesn’t believe in Destiny.
Amongst the tents, one which stood near the entrance, a makeshift tent being held up by flimsy sticks, a masked man was arguing over the counter made of multiple ammo crates, about how he had to take off his mask. The man behind the counter groaned and tried to explain that it was for verification purposes…
“What do you mean I must show my face!”
Why did he even have this job? The army conscipts were often unwilling, and the strict protocol, though making it safe, often led to high temperaments. He looked at the papers that he was given, before taking up a green sheet, putting it in his sights.
…
“You may pass. Head to the tent with orange banners.”
And of course, in one of the vehicles, armoured ones, mind you, ferrying people to the camps, sat a young teenage boy with white hair. His cold demeanour should have shaken the people in the truck, but then again, they were in a war.
And as they were ushered out, an army staff started counting and registering each person in the van.
“Magnus El Boris?”
Alex walks out one of the tents near the entrance, rubbing his eyes. He was trying to get some ideas where he might get thrown into, yet all he got was some shut-eye. Not that he was complaining, he found recently it was harder and harder to fall asleep. Some nights he would just stay up, not really in the mood for lying in bed awake for hours on end. He looks around, trying to get his bearings of the surrounding area.
Jeremy Forshken Jr. was sitting in his tent, wondering what lays ahead of him. He missed his home and his wife and his kids. He did not miss his job. He needed to be reminded of what was back home to keep sane. He pulled out his wallet, and stared at the picture he had in there. In there was a picture of the thing he wanted to see most, the picture contained the one entity that was his best freind, his partner in crime, and his true love. The Forshken Family shotgun. He decided not to reminisce on what was back home. He needed to do something, be useful, and keep himself busy. He decided to step outside and get some fresh air. That seemed like a good start.
The man nods in respect and follows the order to the letter. Heading to the tent with the orange banners.
Of course, being a man of relative authority, his father was once a military veteran, one of authority which led him to a higher rank, despite his unfamiliarity to it all. Of course, he was just a medic, but a field medic’s job was dangerous…
The camp was wide and huge, and looking out of the entrance, was a dirt road leading towards the city of the Federation.
Of course, that he had been posted to a towering tentage further in, of orange banners. Several people were there, mostly all fresh recruits and conscripts, talking about anything under the sun.
The fresh air assaults Jeremy’s lungs, the cooling crisp air of autumn breathing new life into him. Refreshing, if it wasnt that they were about to go into a war.
Of course, being assigned to the orange tentage, with several others there waiting.
And of course… the three will meet. Just outside of the tentage.
(@Lightsin @Marshal I’m still awaiting your responses XD)
(Or I’ll go start the next part)
(Hey @Marshal but I’m on mobile too! Oh well. How bout Lights?)
The three of you decide to sit down, right next to each other. After all, all of you were in the same company.
And of course, there seemed to be some time before the commander came.
Of course, there was a commotion in the other tents, which some of you can make out “No Cigarettes”…
Another man sat down by the three of you, with an singed brown eyepatch over his left eye. He took out a cigarette and lit it, causing the crates nearby to explode, killing everyone watches the three of you, judging the three before him.
sorry for the long wait
Alex stands up, looking at the man; not in the eye, but close to it. He inquired, “You must be the commander?”
“Hah, I ain’t no commander. Ya look like a lifely bunch. We be in the same company now, life or death, ya know?”
A fresh recruit, it seems. He seems to be middle aged, with a stubble, quite well-built, narrow eyes.
He looks towards the three of you, and his gaze stops at the next…
“You got the guts. You first.” @Ami
“Alexander, or Alex for short. I’m a medic, so as long as you don’t get shot in any vital areas you’ll most likely be fine.”
