Re: Petty Squabble [ROUND 1] [Fort Ayers, New Atlantis]
05-01-2011, 01:43 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
There were, in fact, three soldiers. The other two were circling around the RV.
Tom Broderburg wasn’t sure why he had led the family out of the safety of the RV after the cat-faced young lady. He had just felt… locked in all of a sudden. Tom berated himself for sounding like a college kid in therapy, even in his own head. There was no call for that.
Alison realized that it was somewhat boyish of her to be thinking this, but she was excited about the prospect of adventure all of a sudden. She vowed to, if not stop complaining, at least complain more constructively.
“What are we standing around for?” she grumbled. “Where are we headed, anyway?”
Clarice figured she ought to trust Carnea, who seemed a bit too self-absorbed to do such a thing as up and murder her family. That didn’t mean she did trust Carnea, just that she felt she would if she were more sensible.
Ethan was very excited by the three soldiers who were closing in on them over the bluffs.
He turned to the closest one. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you going to capture us?”
The soldier was a bit put off by this. She had learned from films that the thing to do when you’re surprised by the presence of civilians was to take off your helmet and let your hair sort of whip around your face a bit, so she did that, then suddenly felt naked at the lack of helmet and became terrified of being shot in the head.
She maintained her composure. “Capture you?” she called. “How about I escort you back to base? What the hell are you doing out—“
”Language,” interjected Tom, in fatherly tones.
”Sorry,” replied the soldier. “I’m Sargeant Jack Coastal. You want to get the he—ck out of this… heckhole before we all get shot? Pardon me for saying so, but—“
”Jack is a boy’s name,” pointed out Ethan.
”It’s short for Jacqueline,” said Jack. Sargeant Jack Coastal didn’t like kids.
”Do all girl soldiers have boys’ names?” asked Ethan.
”No,” growled Jack.
”Do all girl African-Americans have boys’ names?”
”No!”
”Ethan!” hissed Clarice. She grabbed her son’s head in admonishment, then addressed Jack. “I’m sorry, Sargeant. He’s at that age, you know? With the questions.”
”I don’t know,” said Jack, signaling to her men to start moving. “We ought to get back to base before your vehicle attracts too much attention. It isn’t any model I’ve ever seen before.”
”Only two years old,” said Tom proudly, recognizing the compliment.
”I’m sure the geeks up in the base will want to have a look at it. Whoever drives this thing, drive this thing.” Tom nodded and got back in the RV. “We’ll get up on the roof and provide cover.”
”Do you mind if I ride along up top with you?” asked Clarice. “I… dabble in journalism, my editors would kill me if I missed the opportunity to do a ridealong with a soldier on the front lines.” Clarice was not entirely convinced she wasn’t in Iraq.
Jack rolled her eyes, then nodded. “Alright, Alison, you’ve got Emma,” commanded Clarice, handing the baby over to her daughter.
”Sure thing, mom,” said Alison, happy for the chance to take the baby. Despite herself, Alison loved baby Emma. Everyone loved baby Emma.
”Hey, sarge!” called one of the soldiers from atop the RV. “We counted five, not counting the baby. One of these civvies must have snuck off!”
Jack raised an eyebrow at the Broderburgs. ”We had a friend with us,” admitted Clarice, before Alison could say anything. “She must have run off right before you showed. I’m sure she can handle herself.” Clarice gave her daughter a challenging look; Alison looked slightly distressed at the prospect of losing Carnea, but inwardly agreed that if anybody could survive a warzone, it was a goddess.
* * * * *
Carnea watched from the bluffs, out of sight. ”Our old cat used to run away all the time,” she heard the boy say, and smiled metaphorically. No, that didn’t work out to plan—apparently these New Atlantis types didn’t know how to conduct the proper amount of atrocities in warfare—but that left one army to take care of the job for her.
Carnea looked out over the hills. A rather substantial number of soldiers, glistening like metal, was making their way through the valley. The goddess began to drift her way in that general direction.
There were, in fact, three soldiers. The other two were circling around the RV.
Tom Broderburg wasn’t sure why he had led the family out of the safety of the RV after the cat-faced young lady. He had just felt… locked in all of a sudden. Tom berated himself for sounding like a college kid in therapy, even in his own head. There was no call for that.
Alison realized that it was somewhat boyish of her to be thinking this, but she was excited about the prospect of adventure all of a sudden. She vowed to, if not stop complaining, at least complain more constructively.
“What are we standing around for?” she grumbled. “Where are we headed, anyway?”
Clarice figured she ought to trust Carnea, who seemed a bit too self-absorbed to do such a thing as up and murder her family. That didn’t mean she did trust Carnea, just that she felt she would if she were more sensible.
Ethan was very excited by the three soldiers who were closing in on them over the bluffs.
He turned to the closest one. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you going to capture us?”
The soldier was a bit put off by this. She had learned from films that the thing to do when you’re surprised by the presence of civilians was to take off your helmet and let your hair sort of whip around your face a bit, so she did that, then suddenly felt naked at the lack of helmet and became terrified of being shot in the head.
She maintained her composure. “Capture you?” she called. “How about I escort you back to base? What the hell are you doing out—“
”Language,” interjected Tom, in fatherly tones.
”Sorry,” replied the soldier. “I’m Sargeant Jack Coastal. You want to get the he—ck out of this… heckhole before we all get shot? Pardon me for saying so, but—“
”Jack is a boy’s name,” pointed out Ethan.
”It’s short for Jacqueline,” said Jack. Sargeant Jack Coastal didn’t like kids.
”Do all girl soldiers have boys’ names?” asked Ethan.
”No,” growled Jack.
”Do all girl African-Americans have boys’ names?”
”No!”
”Ethan!” hissed Clarice. She grabbed her son’s head in admonishment, then addressed Jack. “I’m sorry, Sargeant. He’s at that age, you know? With the questions.”
”I don’t know,” said Jack, signaling to her men to start moving. “We ought to get back to base before your vehicle attracts too much attention. It isn’t any model I’ve ever seen before.”
”Only two years old,” said Tom proudly, recognizing the compliment.
”I’m sure the geeks up in the base will want to have a look at it. Whoever drives this thing, drive this thing.” Tom nodded and got back in the RV. “We’ll get up on the roof and provide cover.”
”Do you mind if I ride along up top with you?” asked Clarice. “I… dabble in journalism, my editors would kill me if I missed the opportunity to do a ridealong with a soldier on the front lines.” Clarice was not entirely convinced she wasn’t in Iraq.
Jack rolled her eyes, then nodded. “Alright, Alison, you’ve got Emma,” commanded Clarice, handing the baby over to her daughter.
”Sure thing, mom,” said Alison, happy for the chance to take the baby. Despite herself, Alison loved baby Emma. Everyone loved baby Emma.
”Hey, sarge!” called one of the soldiers from atop the RV. “We counted five, not counting the baby. One of these civvies must have snuck off!”
Jack raised an eyebrow at the Broderburgs. ”We had a friend with us,” admitted Clarice, before Alison could say anything. “She must have run off right before you showed. I’m sure she can handle herself.” Clarice gave her daughter a challenging look; Alison looked slightly distressed at the prospect of losing Carnea, but inwardly agreed that if anybody could survive a warzone, it was a goddess.
* * * * *
Carnea watched from the bluffs, out of sight. ”Our old cat used to run away all the time,” she heard the boy say, and smiled metaphorically. No, that didn’t work out to plan—apparently these New Atlantis types didn’t know how to conduct the proper amount of atrocities in warfare—but that left one army to take care of the job for her.
Carnea looked out over the hills. A rather substantial number of soldiers, glistening like metal, was making their way through the valley. The goddess began to drift her way in that general direction.