Honestly, you’re surprised it takes as long as it does to break into outright war, with Ryuken taking over territory in two of the small fiefdoms between your nations; your scale sees action in a few small skirmishes edging across the border.
You’re more meticulous than some of your fellow lieutenants; while your squad handles its engagements cleanly and you do your best to draw fighting away from towns, you wince every time you hear the clinical readouts of local casualties in the morning briefings. The Walker in Darkness has moved to back Ryuken, and their unnatural, ghostly scouts are hard to spot for anyone not paying attention.
******* is irritable about the whole thing. “I can’t believe they call us the hard-luck scale and we keep getting stuck cleaning up their messes.”
***** punches them in the shoulder. “We don’t even get called that anymore, dumbass. We’re fully reformed or something.”
“I’ll reform your ass.”
She grins. “Try it—“
“Children, children,” you say, airily, setting your hands on their shoulders, and across from you, **** snorts, and ******** goes back to humming amiably as she stokes the campfire.
You’ve all worked hard. And also there’s been a lot of blood and tears and shouting, but—now, everyone works together nigh-seamlessly. ******* elbows you lightly in the ribs for their personal space, you laugh and raise your hands, and you think that maybe—you have friends you can trust at your back.
It’s a couple weeks later when you get called in for support of a routine scouting mission that turned into a skirmish, that turns into a full-on battle—by the end you’re muddied and have a smear of blood across your face, but it’s not yours. Sister Ascendant Crane stalks through the group, holding the battle-standard high—
“Able scales, to me—we chase this down and nip this in the bud! For the glory and future of Zhanglam! Kestrel Strikes at Twilight, I need you with me—”
You startle. You? You look back at your scale, and they look at you, and you shrug at them, like: well, shit. Let’s go. Notable: Surely nothing will go wrong.
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softlyfalling) wrote2019-01-24 12:53 am
memory 031
Honestly, you’re surprised it takes as long as it does to break into outright war, with Ryuken taking over territory in two of the small fiefdoms between your nations; your scale sees action in a few small skirmishes edging across the border.
You’re more meticulous than some of your fellow lieutenants; while your squad handles its engagements cleanly and you do your best to draw fighting away from towns, you wince every time you hear the clinical readouts of local casualties in the morning briefings. The Walker in Darkness has moved to back Ryuken, and their unnatural, ghostly scouts are hard to spot for anyone not paying attention.
******* is irritable about the whole thing. “I can’t believe they call us the hard-luck scale and we keep getting stuck cleaning up their messes.”
***** punches them in the shoulder. “We don’t even get called that anymore, dumbass. We’re fully reformed or something.”
“I’ll reform your ass.”
She grins. “Try it—“
“Children, children,” you say, airily, setting your hands on their shoulders, and across from you, **** snorts, and ******** goes back to humming amiably as she stokes the campfire.
You’ve all worked hard. And also there’s been a lot of blood and tears and shouting, but—now, everyone works together nigh-seamlessly. ******* elbows you lightly in the ribs for their personal space, you laugh and raise your hands, and you think that maybe—you have friends you can trust at your back.
It’s a couple weeks later when you get called in for support of a routine scouting mission that turned into a skirmish, that turns into a full-on battle—by the end you’re muddied and have a smear of blood across your face, but it’s not yours. Sister Ascendant Crane stalks through the group, holding the battle-standard high—
“Able scales, to me—we chase this down and nip this in the bud! For the glory and future of Zhanglam! Kestrel Strikes at Twilight, I need you with me—”
You startle. You? You look back at your scale, and they look at you, and you shrug at them, like: well, shit. Let’s go.
Notable:
Surely nothing will go wrong.