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Vin collected his things and, with time to spare, went around camp saying goodbye to his friends in case he didn't see them again. Then he grabbed a snack from one of the secret hiding places he'd made around the camp and set off for training area 1.
Role-play where we get drafted into the army, and bad things start to go down (CLOSED)
Ellen finished packing and headed to training area 1. She mulled over the day's events so far. Allman and Raphael didn't seem like terrible assholes, but that could change. One could never be too careful.
By the time the hour had passed, you and several other squads had gathered and were talking in low murmurs. Lennie was among the last to arrive, giving you both a fleeting smile as he jogged up. "Hey, hey. They here yet?"
"Doesn't look like it," Vin said. "Want some craisins?"
"Sure, hit me up." Lennie held out his hand. "Got some bad news and some great news. Which do you want?"
"Bad news." Ellen said, fiddling with the ties on her bag. "Might as well get the crap stuff over with first."
Vin gave him a handful of dried berries. "I agree. Dinner first, then dessert."
Ellen chuckled at the analogy.
"Bad news, we're going to certain death. That camp is right where the fighting is. They're sending us in as a team to cover the retreat of some important uppity-ups. Which means we'll probably die. Good news is that they chose the best people they had for this job, so at least we got good grades in militia school. High-fives." He held out his hands in a sarcastic manor. "Also, I'm not supposed to know this, so let's keep it hush-hush, kay?"
"Oh." Vin lost his appetite. "Really? I thought I was terrible at fighting."
"'Parently not, partner," Lennie said. "Good job. I'm proud. I'll take the rest of those craisins if you don't want them anymore."
Ellen sighed. "Hooray. Death." She fiddled with her bag some more. "So what's the 'great' news?"
"The great news is that us specifically might not get sent out. They're taking this whole group, but only three squads are actually going down death lane. The rest of us get to chill until the next suicide mission." He considered. "Okay, maybe not 'great' news, but it cheered me up."
"So what're the odds of us getting picked?" Ellen asked.
"One in 12," he replied. "If they're just choosing randomly. If not, I couldn't tell ya."
Vin began to frown. "You know, this is really stupid. Who's idea was this, anyway? Who pointlessly throws human lives away like this? Shouldn't they be trying harder to keep us alive?"
"Why the hell would they care about us Raphael? If it ain't their sorry butts, they don't care."
Vin set his jaw angrily. "Now I remember why I gave up on humanity and became a hermit. And they call this patriotism."
Ellen snorted. "A dam sorry excuse for patriotism."
"Yeah, I don't know if you noticed, but they're starting to dehumanize us," Lennie said. "They don't give us time to argue, or even speak, and you can bet your butt they'll be carting us around in those cargo trucks. No luxury taxi for us, I'm afraid. We gotta watch out for each other from here on out, because they sure as heck won't. They probably don't care if one of us dies on the trip over. What if the trains get bombed? We'll be screwed, and they won't send in any fire teams for us."
"I don't see why we should have to accept this. Why not tell the others and stop this stupid plan before it's too late? We could go on strike or start a riot or something."
"I'm on a Highway to Hell!" Ellen muttered in a singsong tone before rising her voice. "I'm down for rioting."
"Because look who's rollin' the big guns in," Lennie muttered, glancing across behind them. Standing in a row, so still Ellen and Vin hadn't noticed them before, were about thirty guards, all holding semi-automatics. They stared blankly over the heads of the mandatory recuits, but were clearly watching their every move. "They'll be watching us," Lennie said. "And personally I'll wait for a better chance."
Ellen nodded. "Good eye Allman. What do you propose we do til a better moment then?"
(We gtg T.T We'll try to be back later, but We might not be there until tomorrow)
"Yeah, I'm waiting. I'm going to play their little game, and then get out as soon as I see a low-risk opportunity. I'll let you guys know." Lennie sighed. "Here come the trucks."
Vin glared at the guards. "Okay, fine. But it's not gonna be 'to each his own,' all right? If we see a chance to escape, we should help as many of the others out as we can."
(seeya)
(Okay, see ya!)
Ellen nodded, shouldering her bag. Of course Raphael wanted to go all 'It's-the-right-thing-to-do'. "Not my ideal escape plan, but whatever works."
(Aaannnnddd on again ~)
The trucks growled through the gates, pulling to a park. The back doors swung open, and the waiting squads were ushered inside. There were no windows or seatbelts, and hardly enough room for the six people they crammed into each one.
"Oof.." Lennie muttered. "Elbow room, jeez…"
Since they'd decided to wait it out, Vin returned to his usual good-natured self. He started casually chatting with the other soldiers to pass the time, knowing that if he was stressed, his reaction time and decision-making skills would soon deteriorate.
Great. We're traveling sardine style. Ellen got in and was squished in between Vin and someone else.