NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:
I got this idea from a thread I posted here earlier looking for a serious-non battle oriented RP. Someone ended up stating that a good idea for a good character RP would be to set the storyline in a destroyed city...post-war so that the story might focus more on the character's lives, backgrounds and their day-to-day survival.

The storyline is: Following a civil war in a country (no specific NS state), the cities and countryside lie devastated. For those who have escaped the destruction, they must now survive the aftermath.

Climate: Similiar to that of London or Seattle...chilly, overcast and rainy.
Number of characters: Completely open

If anyone does end up RPing soldiers remember that this is post-war...therefore there won't be any sudden rebel attacks nor pitched battles between rebel and government armies. Random firefights and skirmishes between survivors are fine though.

So if anyone decides to join in, just have fun :D

IC:

[Two years earlier]

An explosion rocked the building above the young man as he scrambled for cover. Broken and shattered pieces of stone and metal showered down upon the young soldier as he lay on his side in the debris, clutching his hands over his ears and screaming. All around him, the sound of automatic weapons chattered on and off, the gaps left by the guns were filled with the screams of men in mortal agony.

"Get up!" shouted an officer as he pulled the frightened young soldier to his feet. Picking up the young man's Kalashnikov rifle from the ground, he shoved it into his hands shouting, "Take your position, soldier! Defend the Republic!"

The whizz of bullets dropped the young man to his knees. Kneeling, squatting and even lying in the dirt around him were dozens of young men wearing the same khaki green as him. Their own AK-47's were angled over the lip of the debris pile, chattering away at the enemy forces in front of him. Behind the soldier, a jeep-mounted .30 caliber machine gun opened up, spraying the young man with spent shells as he crouched low.

The shrill scream of an artillery shell caused the young man to look up. "Incoming!" he screamed. "Incoming!!"

The shrill scream grew louder...replaced by a blast which knocked him into blackness.

When he came to...he was surrounded with the broken bodies of his comrades. He had no thoughts...he had no desire for revenge. His fighting spirit had deserted him.

Letting the AK drop from his hands, he tore the insignia from his uniform. Without the patches on it, he would simply be one more lost soul in this hellish environment. Tossing the discarded patches to the ground, he picked up his pack, slung it over his shoulder and simply walked away...

He would go home and try to survive as best he could..

(ooc: And when the barrage lifted, the Choson People's Republican artillery had decimated Seoul entirely! ;) Sorry. Call this a tag, I'm interested, but might just end up watching. And God, the forums are annoying me. Work, damn you!)

The young soldier staggered over rubble as he moved. He was cold and hungry and what little food he'd been carrying in his pack was long exhausted. The cold salt fish and hardtack had only seen fit to augment his hunger anyways. Drinking the last few drops from his canteen, he shook the empty vessel, then tossed it away from him. It clattered in the rubble.

There wasn't going to be much chance of finding food and water in the city. Whatever hadn't been stolen by looters or "requisitioned" by the various milita groups had been taking into hiding by various merchants and private citizens. Most of the remaining food and water were probably secure in private hoards somewhere in the rubble.

Not that there were many hiding places left. Artillery and tank fire had decimated most of the buildings, leaving only a few standing. Aside from a fortunate few, most structures had collapsed into piles of broken rubble from the pounding of bombs or shells. Glass and broken masonry crunched under the young man's boots as he stumbled through the apocalyptic wasteland.

Suddenly his eyes beheld the shape of a cross. Ahead of him loomed an immense church...a cathedral. Although religion had been officially banned by the state in earlier years, several houses of worship had still remained in operation. This must have been one of them.

The soldier inspected the building. Although the area around the entrance was heavily pockmarked by bullet holes and a 37mm shell had torn out a section of wall, the cathedral looked sound enough to offer shelter.

Staggering towards the entrance, he found himself tiring even as he moved towards the shattered wooden doors. Collapsing to his knees in front of the stone staircase, his vision turned dark and he sank to the floor, moaning in fatigue.

Just before he blacked out, he thought he saw several faces standing over him and several pairs of hands carrying him into the safety of the church...

:D :) :(
--- :?
--- :oops: ag

((Wow, several things struck me about this thread. My country just got through a civil war, is often refered to as the Republic, and has a climate similar to what you described. Do you see where I'm going with this...? Think of this post as a tag/plug. :P ))

OOC:mind if i RP a SD soldier? :)

OOC: There's no specific country setting, but you're welcome to RP as as a soldier. Just remember it's post-war so there's no huge battles or anything...patrols and skirmishes are pretty much it.

You can flashback to the war in order to build up your character's background though :D

OOC:thanks :D


IC:


Captian Reeds thought he would never get out of the firefight, inside the secured church he looks out one of the destroyed window's looking for surviving enemy Snipers

he turns to get a cup of coffie when he see's some of the other Soldiers that where holed up with him carry sombody in


Captian Reeds:Hold it, what have we got boy's?

OOC:you reply ok? and don't kill him off, he's on the soldiers who brought the lad in side :roll:

OOC: Lol, Cyberutopia...are you suggesting we move this to your nation? :D

IC:

The feeling of water at his lips caused the young soldier to start awake. Leaping up, he knocked the jug aside, hearing a gasp from whoever had been taking care of him as he jumped up in panic. His frightened eyes surveyed his surroundings.

He lay atop a mattress laid out near the front of what appeared to be a large church. Several rows of wooden pews stretched back towards the shattered remnants of the doors located at the front of the church. Behind him, lay an altar with several chalices and plates set upon it which shone in the light of several candles set atop the stone. Behind the altar loomed a tall crucifix with a life size rendition of Jesus at the crucifixion mounted upon it.

A hand landed on his soldier and the young soldier whirled around, his fists going up. A tall thin man wearing the black robes and white neckband of a Catholic priest staggered backwards in surprise. "Whoa son! Steady on," exclaimed the older man as he stared at the former soldier. "We don't mean you any harm!"

"Who the hell are you!?" shouted the soldier as he fell backwards against the altar, knocking several of the chalices to the ground. "What do you want!?"

The tall priest said nothing for a second, pausing only to collect the fallen items and reverently place them back on the altar. Turning back to the young soldier, he calmly said, "I am Father Bartholomew of St. Mary's Cathedral. I run an effort to reach out to those who have nowhere else to go," he said with a motion of his arm towards the pews. "Like them."

For the first time, the soldier noticed that the pews were full of refugees. Old men wearing bandages on their heads, young women wearing head scarves as protection against the cold, children in quilted jackets...even soldiers like himself who still wore uniforms. He saw one man dressed in the uniform of the Republic hold a lighter steady for the cigarette of a wounded figure dressed in the uniform of a revolutionary. It was as though politics meant nothing anymore.

"I didn't know all these people..." said the young soldier as his voice trailed off. The priest only smiled.

"Until the UN aid workers arrive, my church is the safest place for these people. Now please, get something to eat and some sleep. You seem to have all your limbs...we could use your help around here," smiled the priest as he patted the young soldier on the arm and then moved off to offer aid to more of the refugees.

The young soldier looked around, finally taking up a bucket of water and a ladle. Moving to the nearest figure he saw, a badly wounded man dressed in the uniform of a communist revolutionary captain, he filled the dipper and offered it to the wounded man.

"Some water?" offered the young soldier tentatively.

OOC: Sorry bout that ST...you beat me to the punch

IC:

The soldier turned away from the wounded man as the officer addressed him. "I'm a soldier with the thirteenth Republican division. We were overrun near Sixteenth Avenue...I'm only seeking shelter," said the soldier with a blank look in his eyes. "From what I've heard, the fighting is pretty much over....what's the situation around here?"

((I think it would be cool, but only if you want to. I'll send you a TG of necessary info if you want me to. I'll make an IC post soon when I think of something.))

Reeds shakes his head


Reeds:Horrible, by the way i am captian John Reeds of the 12th Republican Division, my squad was decimated at 4th Ave.

he looks the soldier right in the eyes


Reeds:How is it holding up soldier? will you heal?

OOC: I think it would be interesting Cyberutopia, the final decision is your call...post whenever :D

The young man shook his head. "I'll be fine sir...just a little shaken from the combat. We were hit by especially heavy artillery...must have been one of the last barrages of the war."

He waited until the wounded man had finished drinking, then moved to the next one. "By the way, I'm PFC David Johnson."

The sounds of a whirring engine outside caused him to look up. A camoflaged open-top jeep screeched to a halt, breakes whining as a soldier clad in khaki fatigues jumped from the driver's seat. Rushing inside, the soldier cupped his hands and shouted, "It's over! The war is over! The president and the rebel leader have signed a ceasefire!!"

Less than enthusiastic cheering greeted this news for everyone knew that even though the shooting was over...their nation still lay shattered and in ruins.

An old man cried out from the pews, "How will we know its for certain?"

"When will we see the soldiers return?" sobbed a young woman. "My husband..."

The soldier cut her off. "I'm only a messenger. I know nothing about the other men," said the man as he stomped back outside.

The engine started up and the jeep drove off...

Reeds pay's no attention to the new's, he checks the wound in his side from a bullet

he makes sure there's no infection then covers the wound back up and turns to David


John:Pleased to meet you, even if it is in these circumstances, if you need me i'll be helping the wounded


he nods to david before leaving to help another wounded person nearby

The shelling has stopped Mark Hreovin thought to himself, but that doesn't mean anything.

"Job get the radio working I want to know if its over or if they are just reloading!" he barks.

How could this happen

Several Years ago, as the war increased in fevor...

A few friends go together, to young for war, but old enough to know what was happening. Mark, Job Jestun, Billy Gestrum, Max Power, Frank Wieb, and Timmy Paltion. They vowed that if something horrible was to happen they would work together to survive. They began to stockpile what food and defense they could on limited budgets, but as the war progressed they found thinks easier and easier to steal than to buy. Before long they had ammased a goodly food supply, several combat knifes (millitary surplus), several swords via internet, and a stolen pistol or two with ammo.

Wow, all that was so long ago, but no in years, just time thought Mark, the "elected" leader of their group.

"Allright, I heard a rumor of some more munitions and other supplies not to far from here, lets move out!" he shouted to his allies.

Its just us now, us against the world

Night fell over the church and things seemed to quiet down a bit.

The sounds of war had finally fallen silent in the distance. For once in David's recent memory, he couldn't hear the chatter of gunfire nor the sound of exploding artillery. Familiar sounds he had gotten used to...but that no longer sounded.

A hand landed on his shoulder and David looked up to see the priest standing over him and smiling, a sleeping child over his shoulder. The young soldier turned to stare back out into the moonlit rubble of the once-proud city. "The end of the war....and I can't sleep," muttered David with a small smile. "I grew so used to the sounds of death and destruction that now I find I can't sleep without them."

The priest only smiled. "I know your feeling. It took me years to get over the death and destruction I saw as a soldier." David looked up at him with a stunned expression, the priest only smiled wider and went on. "I wasn't always a man of God you know...but after the War...I just couldn't keep killing. I felt that I needed to share God's word with others...that my destiny did not lie in killing others."

"But it just seems like I'll never be able to get by without the war...." muttered David.

"For the little one's future, I hope we all can learn to get by," smiled the priest as he juggled the sleeping child with one hand. "Just try and get some sleep David...things will sort out in the end."

"I hope you're right," spoke David as he stared out over the city...

outside the Church near the Doors, John stands Cigariette in hand, he looks around feeling nervous.


he just stands there looking at the stars

John (To self): arg, i'll never beable to sleep tonight, i'll just watch the stars for a while.

he sits down on the stairs that lead inside a old house watching the skes

Grabbing the binoculars Mark peers at the damaged church, Damn, millitarty, even if there were less we can't take them.

"Sorry guys this is too well fortified for an assualt, you know what that means." Mark says.

And the rest reply in near unison, "Infiltration and executions."

"Thats right, you know the drill."

The quickly went back to the mostly intact basement of a home to stow their more obvious weapons only taking combat knifes. To further improve the ruse they smear their faces with dirt and put on their worst cloths (although their best are not much better) and prepare to head back.

2 Soldiers walk by the church, they approch the church but are halted by john


John:Papers please

the 2 weary soldiers hand their Identification Papers over

John checks them and nods to himself


John:You may continue, and keep a eye on things, i got the feeling we where being watched alittle while ago.

the 2 nod and continue their patrol

Screams filled the air as the guns chattered in the background. He ran through the nightmare...puffing and panting with exhaustion and fear as he took off. A shell exploded near him, showering him with fragments. The man in front of him turned suddenly...his face gone and replaced with a bloody mess...

"No!" shouted David as he sat up straight on the mattress, shaking quietly. He didnt' want to remember the brief battles that he'd seen during the war, much less dream about them.

He shivered. Even though the war was over, he still felt like there was something dangerous close by. Probably just a hunch...but he didn't feel like taking chances. Reaching into his pack, he rummaged around until he came up with his sidearm...a CZ-75 automatic pistol. Slipping it into his belt, he picked up his bedding and moved to a dark corner of the church where he tried to get some more sleep....

The moonlight spilled through the remains of what had once been a magnificent stained glass window. Shot out by an RPG round, the crystalline shards lay shattered on the ground, reflecting the moonlight in a wonderful and amazing facet of colors.

In the beam of light, the priest could be seen on his knees in front of the altar. Eyes closed, rosary beads clenched in his hands, the tall man knelt before the tall cross, his mind and thoughts raised Heavenward. Then a calm smile came over his face and he began to pray...

"Hail mary, full of grace...."

outside John checks his MP-5 and see's it has full ammo

he nods to himself and continues his watch

the 2 troopers from earlier join him


Corporal Lernard:Got a smoke sir?

John nods and hands them both a cigarreite

they nod in appreciation and all three walk together on their patrol with John leading it

BUMP

The sound of footsteps crunching on debris startled David awake. Reaching for his CZ-75, he saw the shadowy figure in front of him smile and playfully tap him on the head. "Calm down boy," grinned one of the soldiers. "It's just me."

David turned, pulling the thin woolen blanket over his shoulders to provide more protection from the evening chill. "Shouldn't you be out on patrol or something?" he muttered as he closed his eyes.

The older man grinned. "I 'ave been," he said with a tired look. "Cap'n says its your turn to take a shift on watch. Soldier's duties and all," said the trooper as he unslung his Kalashnikov rifle and handed it to David. "Come on. We aint got all night."

David recoiled at first from the sight of the AK, but eventually reached out to take it from the grinning soldier. Rising from his impromptu bed, the young soldier slung the AK-47 over his shoulder, moving slowly towards the door as the other trooper took his place in the vacated sleeping spot.

The early morning chill cut into his bones through the battered uniform he wore as he looked around. His breath rose in cloud from his mouth; the temperature was still cold enough to freeze his breath.

Through the rubble of the buildings across the street, he could see the first glimpses of a sunrise coming through. The light lit up shattered beams and destroyed arches, creating a kind of....surreal beauty.

He only smiled to himself and continued his patrol.