Two Foreigners [Open]

[SGT. Niklas Risto]

OOC: Open to both Military & Neutral based characters. Anyone entering this thread must be an intermediate role player, no short posting members please!


Travelling in the back of a 15CWT 4X4 light transport truck, Niklas could undoubtedly feel every bump and nook in the road, as the vehicle’s run-flat tyres ungracefully struck each pothole and rock with as much enthusiasm as a rocking-horse. The ride was horrendous, as he clutched onto the back of the truck’s flatbed folded sides to stable himself, whilst the top of his back thumped against the rear of the main cab. The small truck was commonly used to shift up to at least a ton of payload back and forth, it was a low profile vehicle and unfortunately, the only ride he could hitch for the journey to his designated barracks.

Travelling with him was Corporal Kye Toivo, a very old friend also from Finland who’d joined the fray against the Nazis. He had short blonde ashy hair, with a kiss curl to the fringe and deep pearly blue eyes. He most probably could pass for a German, with the blonde hair, blue eyes and intelligent look behind his thin long face, raised cheekbones and defined jaw-line; if only he didn’t open his mouth to talk. Kye was a very intelligent man and read a lot of books, but he had patriotism and courage that defined him as a perfect soldier. If it wasn’t for these fighting qualities, he most probably would find himself jockeying a desk somewhere quiet, wasting away whilst the world fought around himself. No, Kye had a furious fighting spirit and Niklas was happy to have him beside himself.

Reading what seemed to be an instruction manual of some sort, behind small spectacle glasses, Kye quiet casually and calmly rode out the bumpy ride, confined in a world of his own as he read passively to himself. Now and again Kye instinctively grab out to hold himself steady, but otherwise, the Corporal made use of the journey time to take up a bit of reading to himself and pretty much slink away from the war into his own little world. Niklas admired him though, being able to cut off from reality, but also envied him for that simple reason; he had plenty of nights where he’d lay awake reminiscing over past thoughts. Both war orientated and home-life, before the war even started. He couldn’t help but wonder to himself, what would he being right now if the war hadn’t have touched Finland? Would he be travelling still? Perhaps may have found a nice young lady to settle down with? Or perhaps he would have found himself becoming quite the celebrity with his artwork? As much as the thoughts were comforting, they also bellyached him. If only he was home.

It must have taken a further ten minutes down a long winding road across what seemed to be countryside, until they reached their designated barracks; the only reason Niklas knew they had arrived, was because a low-growl of a voice emitted from the cab behind himself. “Come on then boys, get yo’ hides off my truck, I have a delivery to pick up”[/I] the driver announced in his thick American accent, leaning his head out of the driver side window to look back towards Niklas and Kye, who seemed to wake up from their daydreaming and other-worldly activities they’d succumb too. “Thanks” Niklas merely said, as he propped himself up and over the back of the truck’s small flatbed wall. Kye soon followed, nodding to the driver and grinning like a Cheshire cat, before he felt his M1 Garand rifle being pushed against his chest by Niklas, who’d begun retrieving their gear from the back of the truck: two haversacks, backpacks (which both had an entrenching tool handle sticking out of the top, where they’d dumped them inside of their backpacks, rather than attach to their body strapping to hang off their back) and a water bottle, that was Niklas’s. As he slotted the water bottle back into it’s cover and slid it onto his belt, he gave the driver a nod and spoke again. “Thanks again” -- “Yeah, yeah.”[/b] the driver interrupted impatiently and greased the manual stick into gear, before burbling away.

Kye shouldered his M1 Garand and yanked his backpack up against his back a little for comfort, his spectacle eyes looking around slowly as he waited for Niklas to lead the way. They stood at the entrance of the barracks for at least two minutes, looking a little disorientated, as the place looked abandoned? No-one was walking around and neither did the entrance have any assigned MPs to control the entering and exiting vehicles or people, the post was just simply left open. Niklas began his walk slowly into the barracks, keeping aware of his surroundings the entire time, with Corporal Kye Toivo following closely, his intelligent academic looking features scanning the buildings for signs of life, until a sudden column of training infantryman jogging came bawling out of nowhere into their general direction.

The white t-shirted sweaty GI-Joes came thundering along the pathway, causing Niklas and Kye to back against a wall almost immediately, as the motley crew of sweating men panted breaths of exhaustion as they passed on by, with a Sergeant following close behind them, yelling insults that Niklas didn’t even bother to listen too - it was almost like a ghost train just passing on by out of no where, it certainly caught Niklas and Kye unaware and the Corporal couldn’t help but stifle a laugh to himself. Niklas merely grinned and thumped Kye on the arm, before seeing what seemed to be a main building up ahead. “There, look. Perhaps we’ll find our way now” he gestured towards the main office complex at the end of the road, the two of them eagerly moving faster towards the building.

[SGT. Niklas Risto]

OOC Anyone entering this thread? If not, I'll open another one on a private basis with someone.

[Cathal Ackermen]

Ackerman hadn’t done much for the past few days except do some flight prep and look over some vehicles that had been just sitting around the garage for quiet a while. Wasn’t much to do around the whole place that looked interesting and even the everyday jobs that Cathol did were beginning to get very boring. What was the point any more it was just like they were walking through the motions of a grease monkey.

Some trucks were going back and forth crossed the roads making a racket of noise signaling Cathol to head to the entrance of the barracks and see if any were in need of service. One long cargo truck had just dropped of some men and was sitting there a bit. Driver looked pissed and of course it was Cathol’s job to make sure the truck was fine before it pulled away from the base.

Walking to the left side door of the truck Cathol stepped onto the side running bars so that he could get a better look at the man’s face. “Yes sir could I help you with something?” The driver paused for a bit and shifted into reverse. “If not id like to be on my way.” The driver finished his sentence with something not upsetting more like trying to persuade the young Irish-men to get off of his truck so he could leave.

Cathol grabbed onto the handle on the inside of the truck and held on knowing the truck would take off soon. “El’ ye ‘ould brin me to e’ front of da building?” His Irish accent heavily playing in. He was training to be a pilot yet all he really cared about was the vehicles he would fix in the process.

The driver backed up the truck towards the garage. “Sure can sir I guess ill have someone else look at this heap of shit.” Cathol nodded and hoped off of the truck as it arrived into the garage. Walking away and into the barracks he waved slightly to the driver.

Cathol walked out and into the office were most of the NCOs’ were and he punched out a paper he was given to make sure Cathol was still working around as all of the Engineers were given. He placed it gently onto the desk in front of him and pulled out a pack of smokes. Lighting one up he placed it into his front pocket of the flack jacket he had on.

Seeing a few foreigners of the barracks walk into the front of it he was curious just to see what was going on and if they were staying for a while. Cathol always was the funny warm guy who would love to make new friends around the base and just basically make some room in his bunk room for the new guys until they leave or unfortunately die.

“Eh er’ new guys round’ here don’t come easy.” His Irish accent was hard and fulfilled his fun attitude. He blew out some smoke away from the men setting the cigarette in his mouth again not pulling a swig in at all. Just sitting there. ”Ye’ Like e’ Smoke eh?”{/b] he asked politely to the men.

[SGT. Niklas Risto]

After a long winded look around, attempting to find some sort of reception or office block where they would be rerouted to their stationary barracks; Niklas and Kye headed to what they presumed to be the main office up ahead. Grunting and panting voices murmured from all around themselves, as a few platoons seemed to be training vigorously in the afternoon sun and even a few convoy trucks rattled passed with what seemed to be other new recruits hunkered down beneath the back of each truck’s canopy, green faced and cocky, as their laughter echoed on by from each truck. All of a sudden, the small base seemed to be buzzing alive with activity, compared to the ghost town demeanour the place had upon their first glance, their first impression.

Shouldering his M1 Garand rifle, Niklas adjusted the strap’s clip to tighten the fabric against his broad shoulder, glancing towards the fair haired Kye walking by his side. A sense of apprehension suddenly befell the two soldiers, as an immediate silence numbed their mouths. Perhaps the reality of the war was suddenly hitting home? They were about to properly adjoin the ranks of the American Military and would soon be facing the grim and harsh world of combat on the frontlines. All their training, minor experience they had back in Finland during the invasion or whatever combat they experienced against the might of the iron Nazi fist would be nothing compared to what they were about to endure. It was one thing being a civilian during time of crisis and another thing altogether, being the uniformed enemy of the Nazi.

The atmosphere between Niklas and Kye could’ve been cut with a knife, as they began to think of the harsh reality before themselves, but were soon dragged back to the ‘here and now’ as a man approached the pair of wandering souls abruptly. Niklas tilted his head a little as the man spoke and looked to Kye for a brief moment, as it looking to his friend to see if he understood what the man said? Kye’s eyes shifted to Niklas slowly and a faint subtle shrug of the shoulders soon followed, having not completely understood the lingo the man was speaking. Niklas’s nose scrunched up a little and he wiped his mouth, looking back towards the person who’d just stood in front of them and said something that sounded a bit like; ‘You nude flies bound here, don’t get queasy’. Niklas didn’t have a clue what the man actually said, as he was about to ask the man to repeat himself, when he suddenly extended stuck a cigarette in his mouth and said something again, this time Niklas guessed what he meant.

Nodding, Niklas protruded his hand out and slipped two cigarettes from out of the pack in the man’s hand. Placing one upon his lips and passing one to Kye, he looked to the man before himself again and grinned, sliding a pack of matches from out of his breast pocket. “Thanks for the smoke” he said stiffly, the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he struck a match against the brown strip on the matchbox, cupping his free hand around the dwindling flame to protect it, whilst he inhaled on the tobacco stick to ignite it. Glancing to Kye, wondering he wanted a light, he watched his friend simply slide the cigarette behind his hear and shook his head. “Have mine later Nick”[/I] he gestured sharply, whilst he folded his arms against his chest, nodding to the man who’d just given him a cigarette. “Yeah, thanks for the cigarette”[/I] Kye said, remembering to thank him.

Niklas waved the match’s flame out and flicked the distinguished match off into the gutter. Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Niklas pulled the cigarette from off his lips and blew a cloud of smoke from out of his nostrils. “Names Niklas, Sergeant Niklas Risto” he introduced himself, tilting his head to Kye as he spoke again. “That’s Corporal Kye Toivo”, Kye nodded as he was introduced. “So who are you?” he asked soon afterwards, placing the cigarette back onto his lips for another slow puff, looking at the man before himself, praying he’d understand him this time. He didn’t have a clue what kind of accent he had, sounded Scottish? He couldn’t say he’d ever spoken to an Irishman before.

[Cathal Ackermen]

Ackermen smiled at the two men that looked as if they were in close collaboration with each other. Cathol hadn’t many friends at this barracks and basically the whole town didn’t like him at all. Noticing this whenever he saw new guys come in he would love to extend a helping hand to them. “Well’ M’Names Cathol.” His Irish accent was one to bless the ears of souls that listen.

Cathol looked around the Office and decided that this wasn’t the best place to be to tell the new guys what it’s like in the place. ”Come with’ Meh” . He wasn’t one to talk too much at people he just met. Though if he was in a good mood he could kill you with talking. Cathol’s Irish accent was not annoying yet it wasn’t always very pleasant.

Walking into the halls of the barracks he looked around. Not much to be excited about except its this big green base more of a big green oven to just “cook” The new guys before combat. ”Me bunk is in da’ room to ye’ left.” The other two people that were bunking with him had been shipped to a different barracks and were more then likely dead at that post.

Walking into the bunkroom Cathol moved the cloth “Door” Slowly and pinned it to the wall. The company that was here isn’t very nifty at all they didn’t have doors for mostly none of the rooms. “Ake’ a seat, talk for a bit eh?” Cathol walked over to the bunk that was taken by him and sat on the cot before laying down on it.

[SGT. Niklas Risto]

OOC: Just a heads up, not that your post is TOO short, but I did ask for intermediate role players, so please keep your post length up for me please and secondly, you just god-moded my character and NPC heading off to your bunk? I’m not really fond of people controlling my character without any consulting first. To be honest, I wouldn’t have headed to your bunk only having just met you? Niklas and Kye are looking to get signed in, shown their own bunks. I’ll go with the flow for now, but don’t randomly god-mode my character moving around please. I had a rough plot I wanted this thread to take and now it’s ended up in your bunk instead…

IC:

Being lead around aimlessly almost, Niklas and Kye frequently exchanged looks to one another, wondering where the man was taking them? It didn’t seem as if the man knew his way for most of the journey, or so it seemed that way, as they waltzed through barrack halls, corridors and eventually, they ended up in what seemed like a slumber? No doors - not even any miraculous windows - but just draped sheets for doors along the corridor. Kye’s eyes nervously split between the odd looking doorways, almost expecting to bare witness to a dozen nude bodies of male genitalia; it did indeed look like a narrow set of shower cubicals and Niklas couldn’t help but mentally embrace himself either, finding the slum of what was called a ‘barracks’ horrendous.

Standing stiff, he took one last drag on his cigarette and swiped the burning tobacco end against the wall, rubbing out the flame of the cigarette. Flicking the butt-end onto the floor, he glanced towards Cathol, their apparent new friend? Who gestured towards a room, bunk to their left. The man inevitably lead the way and folded back the moth-hole ridden sheet to settle against a tie-back fixed to the wall. Nudging Kye to go first, Niklas made his friend step inwards into the damp smelling bunk-house with a few cots stacked up either side and immediately, Kye felt like covering his nose from the smell of musk in the room. Reluctantly, Kye removed the strap to his M1 Garand from off his shoulder and set the rifle down against the wall, before removing his karki backpack and haversack to nest against the rifle’s butt on the cold concrete floor.

Niklas took a small step into the room whilst Kye busied himself and looked to the fellow man sprawling out onto his cot, as if now were a time to lounge freely. Niklas’s nostrils flared to the damp musk smell of the room and snapped his fingers at Kye, pointing to the window. “Hankkikaa tuo ikkuna auki” he said with a stifled breath, feeling as if he were breathing inside of a musky old wardrobe that hadn’t been aired for at least several years. Removing his M1 Garand, Niklas placed the rifle against the adjacent wall to Kye’s, watching as Kye unlatched the window and swung it open; a long breeze soon engulfed the room afterwards, the smell of diesel and dirt couldn’t have smelt fresher in any other circumstance.

Looking to the man laying prone on his cot, Niklas leant against the wall and brushed a hand across his jaw, feeling a small trickle of stubble coming through. “So, Cathol…” he started, curiously looking around the room at the same time, seeing a few things he hadn’t noticed before a bit better now that a few radiant beams of light shimmered into the room from the open window. “What do you do here? -- Think you could show us where to sign-in a little later too?” he added onto his small-talk, showing he was a bit apprehensive being in the man’s bunk, both himself and Kye wanting to get settled down as soon as they could, into a bunk of their own.

Kye meanwhile removed his steel-rimmed spectacles and placed them into his check pocket, one of the arms to the spectacles hanging out of the pocket. The Corporal shifted his back side down onto one of the empty cots across from Cathol and quietly sat there, rubbing his hands somewhat, getting dry bits of dirt from off his palms. Niklas on the other hand merely stood there, leant against the wall, attempting to make small-talk as he observed Cathol quietly, wondering what the man done at the barracks? And what rank he was? He didn’t see any significant pieces of insignia, other than a lapel of wings on his arm, but Niklas gathered the man wasn’t bright enough to fly a plane. He didn’t seem the posh officer pilot type.

[Cathal Ackermen]

OOC: Sorry about the whole short posts but the only reason why I really joined was because no one else had joined.

IC:

Cathol was a bit stunned at the whole different language. What did this man say to the other one? It didn’t make since if Cathol was speaking in English then why would you talk in a different language that He would not understand? Whatever it meant Cathol was going to ask him. “Well ur…..”

He was cut off at the other man that hadn’t talked much at all opening the window. It still was a bit confusing. Cathol wanted to leave the bunkroom and the two men as he stared at them. “So, Cathol…” he started, curiously looking around the room. “What do you do here? -- Think you could show us where to sign-in a little later too?”

Cathol thought about the question that was just asked. Well he could show them to the sign in and he could ditch the two men that were now talking and sitting in his bunkroom. Well I could walk you two to the sign in when I head back to the...” He trailed off a bit while giving the two men a weird look. Shaking his head Cathol finished his sentence. “Garage.”

Cathol stood up and stretched out his legs looking around the room. What was he to do now other then stay in the room until he was needed in the garage. Still confused at the men’s nationality and what they were and how they got here and most certainly what was there specialty. “Urm ey’ you two from” Cathol asked as the Irish accent came back sort of only to crack and stutter at the end of his sentence.

Cathol walked back to his bunk and looked through his stuff. He reached into a nap sack that was just sitting around underneath the cot of his. He opened it up reaching his dirty hand into it and pulled out a clean and very fresh smelling piece of linen. The cloth was a bright white and was as soft as wool. Cathol was guessing that the cloth must have just gotten out of the wash when he grabbed it from a basket of linens and such outside of the mess hall.

“Whenever you guys ant’ ill walk ye’ over to de’ office.” Irish men were always willing to help as it ran through there heritage to be kind and willing to make some help to others. Cathol took the rag that he had just grabbed out of the nap sack into both hands and wiped off his face taking some of the sweat and grease from it. The cloth was now pretty black on one side and white on the other. Throwing it under his bed until the janitor-like people came around he continued to the other side of the room were the two men sit. He wasn’t close to them but still in conjunction with them.

[SGT. Niklas Risto]

Niklas had spoken to Kye in Finnish, asking him to open the window; the pair of them had gone back years together and speaking in Finnish to one another at times just seemed to take their mind off the draught of the war. Niklas in particular missed home and he no doubt presumed Kye did too, it was the little qualities of speaking their own foreign tongues, that lifted the weight off their shoulders for the smallest of minutes at times, but Niklas soon found himself looking onward towards a dumb-struck man, not completely understanding what he had momentarily said to Kye; inevitably, he knew Cathol took it personally. Most probably thinking he were talking behind the man’s back?

Watching as the man arise from his cot and spoke, Niklas nodded slightly and grinned, noticing the man was perhaps an engineer? It most probably hard to miss with the grime and grease the man had on his face and hands, but wasn’t a little sidetracked by the insignia of wings on his upper arm. If he were honest, he didn’t entirely know the insignia or ranks of the aviation units or engineers, so he simply nodded, presuming the man greased over engines for his trade.

Shortly after, Cathol appointed a curious question of his own, having wondered where both Niklas and Kye were from? A small smile spread on Niklas’s face for the briefest of moments and Kye simply grinned in correspondence from across the way. “We’re Finnish” he simply answered, before a small laugh erupted from beneath his breath. “Why - did you think we were German?” he joked, noticing as Kye gave a small laugh to himself also, adding his own two cents to the humour. “That would have been a bad move, bringing two Germans to your bunk…”[/I] Kye said with a Cheshire grin on his lips, his pearly white teeth protruding from under his lips.

Niklas merely laughed again, finding it rather funny, before he stood straight from the wall he was leaning against and unfolded his arms, casually shuffling back his left tunic sleeve and shirt to look at his military issue wristwatch for the time. “I guess you could take us over to the office in ten minutes” Niklas said towards Cathol, as he ran his sleeve back down across his arm again, before standing there idly, looking around quietly to himself. Meanwhile Kye shuffled over on the cot, allowed Cathol to sit down, noticing the man move across the room towards himself. “So you seen any combat?”[/I] Corporal Kye Toivo asked curiously, his hand running along his neck slowly, as he looked to Cathol for indications of some sort of story he may have been conjuring up to tell the two Finnish men.

OOC: Don’t really know what to write, sorry it’s shorter than my standard average.

[Cathal Ackermen]

OOC: Its ok really post amount doesn’t matter to me as long as its around 20 lines or so but your Raf so I guess it matters much to you haha

IC:

Cathol looked around the room wondering where he could go and not make it look so suspicious about leaving them in the room. Cathol roamed back to his side of the room when the man named Niklas had explained that he was from Finland. ”Interesting. Coulda’ swore you we are from der.” He said as Cathol walked back to the other end of the room once again. He was pacing a bit but he had no idea why.

Cathol noticed that Kye had moved over a bit making Cathol want to sit down but he kept to his feet. Why would he sit next to him when Cathol barely knew him at all? Well Cathol had invited them to the semi empty bunk of his but it didn’t matter. Cathol kept to his feet like he should do instead of sitting down like a lazy man would do.

Cathol didn’t want to be too much of an annoying son of a bitch so he thought about taking the two men to the office again and then head out. Maybe see them a chow time and sit with them or even give them a quick visit at there new bunks later on. That Was all changed when the man asked him about war stories.

Cathol didn’t know much about war but he still had a few up his sleeve. He thought about the many things that Cathol could tell the two men and the most interesting one he thought was about the ambush while he was working in the middle of night. It was quiet a scary moment for him but why not share it with these two finish men correct?

Cathol began to speak about the moment “Well nothing too big and bad but we were ambushed once while on a patrol.” The moment was a bit horrific. He didn’t want to remember it but he figured why not tell them about it. ”We kind of just wandered around the camp and bam there came de’ Nazis.” Cathol became a bit quiet now staring at the men not really saying much more.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

The following CP has been issued:

Risto - 6CP

Ackerman - 4CP

-JT