After the storm

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan didn't get three steps in the door of his room when the rain all but stopped. "Well that is about my luck, least I made the most of it and made a friend doing it." He unlaced his boots and peeled off his socks "Whoa, that feels better. probably gonna be stinkin in here by the time I get done eating if I leave these wet clothes out." He walked down the hall about twenty feet to the maintenance closet and grabbed a garbage bag for the muddy clothes. As he re-entered his room he grabbed a towel from the foot of his bed and began drying his face and hair. "Yep, kids got potential, great potential, wonder how well he can shoot." He said to himself almost in a laughing matter. He sat down and yanked his shirt off and resorted back to the towel for assistance.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen had been sitting in his room, drying off and getting new clothes on, he was in a slightly better mood then he was when he had set out today, all because of one ISG McMillan. He smiled as he took his shirt off, grabbed a new one and put it on, rubbing his hair dry. He peeled his socks off, drying them then putting new ones on.

He grabbed some old shoes and put them on, it didn't matter if they wern't up to scratch.

Leaving his room he retreted down the corridors to McMillan's room. Knocking on the door.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

He scavenged through his shaving kit in the bathroom, took out his razor and turned on the water. It had been many years since he had used shaving cream but he still kept a can of it with him, not sure why. He just never got rid of it. "Hey, no niches today, good sign." He said it with a smile and then set about brushing his teeth. As he cleaned up the sink area and put his gear back in his little bag he headed back towards his room. As he rounded the corner to the hall where is room was located he noticed Private Colly, the young man had just knocked on his door. "Hey buddy, that was fast." he kept walking towards his new pal. As he reached the door he grabbed the towel off his shoulder and turned the doorknob. "Lemme put my wet clothes in a bag and put on a dry pair of boots and I'll be set." He sat on his bed and commenced putting his muddy garments in to the bag.

[ct]

“Here we are, young man,” a hoarse voice piped out from the driver’s seat, “The Allied camp.”

Clarence nudged his head to the window slightly startled as he had drifted to sleep throughout the hitched ride. He did not expect to arrive so soon, but when he thought about it, time flied by perhaps because the private had not caught a wink’s eye for two days straight. Were it not for the recent oust at the orphanage and minor demeanor he had to amend, Clarence Thomas would have arrived here weeks ago.

But all of those was simply a thing of the past, and if there’s one matter he hated most Clarence had to say people who lingered in their past.

Clarence looked straight ahead absorbed in the steady rhythm of the falling rain. He let out a soft sigh before he swung his muddy boot out of the car and into the downpour. “Hey, thanks gramps,” the private said giving a slight nod to the man as he placed the duffle bag of meager possession to rest in ease across his left shoulder. With his head tucked in, the quiet soldier took a slow step forward only to turn later with one hand in the pocket and the other in the air waving a silent goodbye to the rusty car sputtering its way down the road.

Whatever he imagined earlier of the base camp he regretted to admit he was misinformed. The place was bigger than he thought possible, and by standing there drenched outside of the netted gate, Clarence estimated the lawn stretched as far as a mile, but that’s not the only one he saw. Two men seemingly absorbed in their conversation made the private wonder as to what compelled them to talk in this weather. He thought it’s best not to intrude; then again Clarence, being the new recruit, had a difficult time finding the main office.

Tired as hell, the soldier found it unthinkable he still had energy to swing his sack over the fence and clamber down to the other side. He gathered the muddy pack dirtied because of the sopping grass and started to stride towards the two soldiers when they started to walk away.

Clarence recalled they had disappeared beyond those corner walls, and chances were they could not get too far for him to catch up. A knock down the corridor told him he’s on a right path, and before long he came upon a young man, not much older than himself, standing next to a door.

“You there,” Clarence let his voice be heard, “This is the Allied camp, right? Mind tell me where the main office is?”

[Stephen Colly]

"Hey buddy, that was fast."

Stephen laughed, and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly.
"Lemme put my wet clothes in a bag and put on a dry pair of boots and I'll be set."
"Alright then." Stephen said and watched as his new found friend went into his room. Stephen stood by the door and waited, but as he was about to knock again, a voice came from the other end of the corridor.
His head shot up;
“You there. This is the Allied camp, right? Mind tell me where the main office is?”
"Yeah, it is tha Allied camp." Stephen said, quieter. "The main office is that way." Stephen said, pointing to the door, that the man had just come from. - "This is the Mess Hall."

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

He finished gathering his muddy clothes in to the bag and tied up the end of it. He sat it on the floor at the foot of his bed, he'd take care of them when he got back from the chow hall, right now he just wanted a good breakfast. He reached under his bed and grabbed a pair of boots and slid them out. "Huh, I haven't worn these old things in a while." He slid them onto his cold feet, welcoming the warmth they would soon bring, slung his carbine over his shoulder and walked towards the door.

"Who you talking to?" He didn't really want to know that bad, just making some conversation. "Ready to eat?" Not a second after the words left his lips his stomach starred to rumble something awful. "Well apparently I'm hungrier than I thought." He stepped out and closed the door to behind him.

[ct]

His fingers entwined around the strap and gave it a tug to steady the weight across his back. “Thanks,” he said casually; head tucked in avoiding the eye contact given by the young man across him. Before any more words were passed between the two, a voice spoke out apparently a friend of the guy Clarence had spoken to earlier, and the laid-back recruit responded to the unknown stranger as a way to introduce himself.

“Clarence Thomas,” he offered his hand to the two gentlemen, “Pleasure to meet you. If you don’t mind, can I join in? I don’t exactly know where everything is, but that smell of bacon can sure bring appetite. I might as well eat first before I go to report.”

[Stephen Colly]

"Who you talking to? "Ready to eat? Well apparently I'm hungrier than I thought.

Stephen heard the joky voice of McMillan behind him and turned to see his friend, ready and waiting outside his room.

"This is..." Stephen was about to say when he stopped as the other man introduced himself. Stephen smiled and shook the recruits hand,

“Pleasure to meet you. If you don’t mind, can I join in? I don’t exactly know where everything is, but that smell of bacon can sure bring appetite. I might as well eat first before I go to report.”

Stephen looked at McMillan then back at Clarence, "I don't mind, if McMillan doesn't." he looked up at his friend, raising an eyebrow but smiling.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

As McMillan approached Stephen so did another young man. "World is filling up." he mumbled to himself, inaudible for anyone else. The new face introduced himself as Clarence Thomas and was in no way shy. He had asked to join us for chow and Stephen had no problem with that.

"Actually no you can't come, it is a private mess hall..." He paused as he realized his humor was more than likely misplaced. "...Just fooling around. I'd like it very much if you joined us. I'm First Sergeant McMillan, and you're Thomas right?" McMillan offered his hand in return for the warm greeting from Thomas. Clarence had a duffel slung over his shoulder and he was soaked just as it was. "You are more than welcome to set your stuff next to my rack and come for it after we eat. If you would like a dry towel I have an extra one." McMillan didn't really know this guy but he reminded him of southerners from the states and those people were always genuine and true so he gave the new man the benefit of the doubt.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

OOC: Hope you don’t mind me joining!? Sorry if I’m a little forwards in my post, but my character is very stubborn, perhaps a little too “Officer-like”. Thought it would spice it up. I’ll remove this if you guys had other plans!


As Lieutenant J. Brentwood’s head nestled against the grain of his hard pillow, scruffily crunched up behind his neck and head, his eyes lisped over the strings of sentences to his novel he was reading. The Lieutenant’s legs were crossed somewhat along the frontier of the bedspread, one of his arms hoisted up behind his head, almost holding the hard pillow into place, whilst his other hand cradled the paperback horror novel he was grossly indulged in - a small grin perching upon his lips now and again, as a blood spilled scene unfolded within his book.

Noises… And again… The Lieutenant’s eyes flickered up a little irritated towards the doorway perched a-jar to his bunk. The Officer’s bunks and mess area were hardly rowdy, but the sudden commotion outside disturbed the Lieutenant greatly. Mumbling beneath his breath inaudibly, he folded the page he was on and dropped the book onto the bottom of his bed, eagerly shifting his way to the doorway to his room, slowly peering out, glaring upon numerous soldiers littering the corridor, chatting perhaps a little too loudly for the Lieutenant‘s liking.

Stubbornly swinging his door open and stepping out (not too far from the soldiers), the Lieutenant planted his hands upon his hips and throatily coughed aloud for the soldiers attentions to be grabbed. “Sergeant…” Lieutenant Brentwood said in his well spoken English tongue, glaring towards the NCO brute with a firm stare, before continuing “What is the meaning of all this? Sergeant” the Lieutenant didn’t seem all too pleased, one of his boots slowly stepping out into the corridor, approaching the men closer. “Do stand straight, when I‘m talking to you” the Lieutenant insisted, as he glared towards the Sergeant, stepping even closer, almost looking down upon the man… somewhat now demanding to know the meaning of all the commotion.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

McMillan was glad to see a new face in the barracks and as he tried to offer a warm greeting he was suddenly stopped by a voice coming from behind him. This voice did not sound happy and since the voice seemed to bark orders at him and refer to him a "Sergeant" McMillan caught himself trying to think of what he had done incorrectly. He turned to notice Lieutenant Brentwood stepping out of his own room and walking towards him.

McMillan snapped to attention and kept his gaze straight ahead as the officer approached. The Lieutenant was demanding to know what was going on. "Sir I am not quite sure what you are referring to but I was offering this new recruit a towel due to the fact that he is soaking wet and then the three of us were going to the chow hall to enjoy breakfast after a good workout, sir." McMillan had been blind-sided and didn't care for that too much. It isn't professional for a senior NCO to receive a reeming from a superior in front of the senior NCO's subordinates. McMillan kept his answer as short as possible and meant no offense in whatever he, or they, had done to annoy this officer.

"Request permission to speak freely, sir?"

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

The tired Lieutenant wiped his eye a little as he gritted his teeth, rolling back his shirt sleeves slowly to reveal his muscular fore-arms, this Commissioned Officer was obviously well spoken, but far from the ‘Posh’ crowd that bought themselves the rank. He’d seen combat alright, but maintaining a pure level of patience, the Lieutenant kept a chill-factor persona about himself…

Smirking slightly, Liam’s eyes darted towards the Privates scruffily standing there -- a motley crew to say the least from first perspective. “Eyes up lads! Toes together…” the Lieutenant said a little demandingly towards the Privates merely just standing there, before he returned his attention towards the First Sergeant, a respectable man from first impressions, but the Lieutenant liked to play hard to get - no one earned his respect so easily, no ranking man, heck’ the Lieutenant was promptly cut loose from his promotion to Captain because of fowl language and back-talking due in briefing… So frankly, he was a hard egg to crack at times.

“Alright Sergeant, granted -- spit what it’s worth?” the Lieutenant said brief and sharply, folding his arms slowly, watching the man before him, almost expecting a witty question to be thrown his way. Indeed, the Lieutenant was stubborn, arrogant at times and ignorant, but those characteristics alone made him a respectable man on the field, as a Commando, he knew his own Superiors entrusted him with Intelligence their own blood wouldn’t be able to keep secretive. If it was one true quality Liam Brentwood had, was valour, a man’s man, he spoke his mind -- perhaps a little too much at times.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

"Sir I apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused you but sir, it's two hours after revilie and you look like you just crawled out of bed. If you would care to join us to the mess hall, I'm sure we would be honored by your presence at breakfast." McMillan didn't really want to sweet talk this guy but he knew if he pissed him off too much that he might send McMillan on some pathetic detail or some other measure of delinquent punishment. Honestly he didn't mind it if the officer joined them for chow, maybe McMillan could find out what might be going on higher up so as to better prepare.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

The lieutenant listened intently, his eyes weary and heavy from reading in the dark - not a great combination, but remained stiffly quiet and stubbornly head strong within his place. He knew it was bad work, performance, to talk childishly towards a senior officer - any officer for that respect, in front of subordinates, but Liam felt obliged to talk how he felt, considering it was the ‘Officer’s mess’ after all and that bugged him the most… Having soldiers lingering in the Officer’s quarters…

Remaining quiet about the true irritating factor and hearing the man out, the Lieutenant nodded slowly and bit his lower lip, a small sign that he’d just stopped himself from saying something, but instead uttering out “I know the time Sergeant, thanks for the compliment on my looks though” he said more light heartedly, patting the man on the arm slightly, glancing towards the two soldiers vaguely, before sighing to look towards the Sergeant slowly again to stare at him.

“You know the policy of this building Sergeant…”[/I] the Lieutenant said a little quietly this time, not so loud enough for the other soldier’s to overhear, as Liam turned his body somewhat, before sighing to say even quieter “Major fat-arse is right down the corridor there, having his lunch time kip. You want to be thankful you disturbed me, rather than him… But by all means, carry on the way you are with your cronies here and he‘ll have your guts for garters” but the Lieutenant soon stopped as he heard something rustle down the other end of the corridor for a moment, grinning to himself as he gave another reassuring pat on McMillan’s shoulder, coughing a little to nod and say more briskly and loudly. “At ease lads, let’s get some grub…”

[Nathan Whyte]

Moderation Post

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Belated, yes, but I'm sure nobody minds:

McMillan:[/u] 9 CP - Several posts were below minimum size.
Colly:[/u] 4 CP
Brentwood:[/u] 6 CP[/color]