Introduction
xxx Our World xxx
Some two and a half decades have passed since Alphonse and Edward, the Fullmetal Alchemist, defeated Father. Their east-west quest to compile the alchemic knowledge of foreign lands continues to this day with only one alteration: they have families now. Alphonse lives in Xing with May and his children as a member of the Chang clan, while Edward returned Risembool and, of course, his life with Winry Rockbell. But the world doesn’t stop spinning when things fall into place, and though the Elric brothers are long past reaching for the sun, it’s still on the horizon.
Amestris is at war, and has been for some time. Its opponent, Drachma, seeks to take advantage of the fledgling democracy to garner territory and power for itself. While Amestris is renowned for its mastery of the alchemic arts, a triumph of the soul, Drachma boasts superior technology and a mastery of the human mind that can be wrought only through intense discipline and study. There are even whispers of another Philosopher’s Stone, this one made from stripping the raw power of alchemists, which could win them the war.
True to his word, Fuhrer Mustang has devoted his life to ending the military regime and bringing democracy to Amestris. The progress has been slow, but the country now stands on the verge of what could be its first truly free election... if it happens at all. The war has sparked inflation, terrorism from inside and outside the country, and rioting. The standard of living is falling, and refugees of the Drachman air raids drift from one slum to the next. The Fuhrer had little choice but to enact martial law in the more populous regions of Amestris, including Central, or risk losing control of the country completely. The troops required to accomplish this drained resources that would otherwise have been put to use in the Briggs Mountain Range, the final line of defence against Drachma’s ground forces, further exposing Amestris to attack.
It was then that the Amestris initiated the draft. As a comparatively small country, it required as large a pool as possible: those sixteen and older, regardless of gender, must report for service if their group number is drawn. Some are trained and sent to the front lines to defend and die for their country, while others serve to maintain law at home, the threat of deployment hanging ever over their heads.
All are dogs of the military, all must bite on command. It’s up to them if they will become part of the machine, for their own benefit or for that Amestris’s people, or fight the conspiracy above them, whatever the price of rebellion.
But not everyone has reported for duty. Draft-dodgers, terrorists, agents of Drachma—they too roam the streets of Central. In these times, it’s difficult to say who’s doing what is right and who’s doing what works.
When the world is burning down around you, what is worth more: the mind, or the soul?
xxx Our Characters xxx
In addition to non-player characters, the faceless crowds, carriage drivers, and cannon characters of the world, there are two core groups our characters will fall into at the start of our roleplay.
There are the draftees, a group of young soldiers whose numbers were drawn by lottery, requiring them to report to Central and serve as part of the Amestrian military. While some may exhibit alchemic abilities, many more are simply city folk, refugees, or apprentice in a single trade, and may never have dreamed of going off to war. Initially, our soldiers will reside in Barrack #13 as they train to become part of the military force enforcing martial law in Central. In the future, they may be deployed, desert their posts, or find that they are truly needed in Central, but for now they maintain the privilege to explore the city during their free hours so long as they remain in uniform.
The second group is, well, everyone else. The terrorists, civilians, Drachman spies... anyone you can think of, be they on the side of Amestris, Drachma, or their own, so long as they contribute to the overall story.
Our roleplay will open on our draftees’ day of arrival in Central. Coming by train, car, or simply down the streets of the city they have always lived in, they have been ordered to report to Barrack #13 by no later than eleven o’clock to receive their uniforms and to be inspected by their superior officers. They are currently ranked as Military Police, but may be granted the title of Alchemist of the State if they demonstrate significant alchemic abilites (though it results in only a minimal pay bump and no change in rank, as the holder is not a true State Alchemist). For them, this is a day of great importance, but for those outside the military it may be one like any other... which doesn’t mean they won’t have something planned.
xxx Their Past xxx
Posted below is our character skeleton, courtesy of Elrith Eldwind. Please PM your completed skeleton to me prior to submitting it to the roleplay, at which point you should paste Personel File to Physical Description into Description, Personality Profile to Dislikes into Personality, and Military Record to Personal History into history in the offical character forum. Exclude the note.
I encourage you to fill this out in the formal style of a true military record. See accepted profiles for comparison.
- Code: Select all
[font=times][center]Personnel File[/center]
[size=120][b]Name:[/b]( Last, First )[/size]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b] (Military Police, Alchemist of the State, State Alchemist*)
[b]Birth Date:[/b](Month, Day, Year)
[b]Enlistment Date:[/b] (August 13, 1935 if drafted*)
[right][img]Insert%20URL-Anime%20Only[/img][/right]
[b][u]Physical Description[/u][/b]
(A suppliment to the above, but be descriptive and be sure to note any features that differ. Hair, eyes, build, and other defining characterists are all things to touch on.)
[size=120][b][u]Personality Profile[/u][/b][/size]
(How can your character be expected to react to the world around them? Quirks? Habits? What are they afraid of and what sets them off? What do they hope to achieve? Be sure to include their views on the current political climate and general instability in Amestris. Do they support the military's actions? Those of the state?)
[list][b]Likes[/b]
*
*
*
[/list]
[list][b]Dislikes[/b]
*
*
*
[/list]
[size=120][b][u]Military Record[/u][/b][/size]
(A brief summary of your character's past involvement with the Amestiran military. Draftees will have had nothing beyond basic training prior to reporting to Central, but those involved with the state by choice or who have had past run ins with the law may have lengthier records.)
[size=120][b][u]Personal History[/u][/b][/size]
(An overview of your character's life. Where do they come from? What events have shaped your chacter as a person? Has the war had a significant impact on their life?)
(Note*: If your character is not enlisted in the Amestrian military, remove the starred sections and paste: [b]Alligance/Employment:[/b](Your character's job, if employed, and what country or organization they are loyal to, if any) in place of the enlistment date.)[/size][/font]
Taking place in...
Amestris our primary setting
The capital city of Amestris and the setting of our roleplay on August 13th 1935.
- 31 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 9 authors
Hans was quite impressed with the Ishvalan, maybe the racial differences where not as far reaching as Hans originally believed. Culturally the Ishvalan's where still inferior, this was merely the natural order of nature; some creatures developed in better circumstances then the other just as some are born into wealthy families and others are born to the unemployed poor. The Ishvalan had also clearly developed a northerner's spirit; only a northerner from the Briggs area could tell that some one originated specifically from that area. Even if Hans came from a village a few kilometers to the north of the Briggs range there was not much difference between the people from these two areas since the land around the Briggs mountains had passed hands between the two nations a number of times centuries ago before the borders where finally decided upon..
The Briggs mountain range was the infamous line of defense which had survived every attempted artillery strikes, bombing raids, tank attacks, mass assaults, sabotage attempts and countless sieges. Hans had the great fortune never to have been sent to fight in that front of the war but the rumors from the Briggs front where the greatest single concern for national moral for the leadership in Drachma.
Hans let himself smile slightly for a moment at the Ishvalan; at least one of these recruits received a proper education and would avoid crying to his mother when introduced to the bombs of the Drachman raiders.
"Well its always good to be optimistic about military service especially when most people treat it as a way to get a good insurance policy, some decent food on the table and funeral service paid for by the government. I imagine you will find your tasks here both far easier and unexpectedly harder then what you are used too; I did"
Hans paused for a moment before noting an important detail
"I think I did not catch your name, what was it soldier?"
Hans heard the hesitation and defiance in the second recruit, he had expected as much from at least some of the recruits which was why he had brought up the matter now rather then later; if he let any doubts develop in their minds as to the realities of their mission it could spell disaster to the entire garrison so it was better to address the problem now rather then later.
"Recruit Halken you are absolutely correct, if we start shooting people in the street for just marching around with signs and shouting about this or that we deliver a crippling blow to the sovereignty of our nation. One crack in our calmness and dedication to the state and we may slowly loss our sense of duty and begin to dispose of those we ourselves consider threats and thus become an even greater threat to the people. This has always been the problem with deploying a fully armed military force inside a city but in these times and especially the upcoming elections we have no choice but to police this once proud capital as if it was an occupied territory.
This city was once united and indeed our news services do try to make it look that way but now this city has become the ideological battle ground of the people and we the central garrison are right in the middle of it all. Our job is to make sure the Ultra nationalists do not start rioting with the Red's or to deal the Militarists who riot with the globalists... stuff like that.
It's because of our interference that all these groups share one common trait; they hate us, they hate us for denying them the chance to crack flesh and brake bones and thus their anger and frustrations are directed at you my young comrades who have nothing to do with this predicament. If they could they would drag you out of your bed and skin you alive.
You could argue that there are those who are not like that at all and you would be correct however these are ether the by standers who just want to get on with their lives and avoid trouble and the victims we are tasked to protect against the mobs. Nether are of much use which is why all garrison troops are expected to carry a weapon at all times and if leaving the military sector travel in groups for added security.
You should not worry about protestors with signs private Halken… worry about them when they take out the guns. Worry about them when they rush you screaming for your blood, worry about them when a small flame or a large one finally ignites the massive ammunition and explosives warehouse this city has become… and quite literally so!"
Hans had gone too far but at least he had delivered the point, Hans had seen the results of revolution in his home land. One day it was the red's who where in charge, the other it was the ultra nationalists and before long the people wanted the iron hand of order only a king could produce.
The Briggs mountain range was the infamous line of defense which had survived every attempted artillery strikes, bombing raids, tank attacks, mass assaults, sabotage attempts and countless sieges. Hans had the great fortune never to have been sent to fight in that front of the war but the rumors from the Briggs front where the greatest single concern for national moral for the leadership in Drachma.
Hans let himself smile slightly for a moment at the Ishvalan; at least one of these recruits received a proper education and would avoid crying to his mother when introduced to the bombs of the Drachman raiders.
"Well its always good to be optimistic about military service especially when most people treat it as a way to get a good insurance policy, some decent food on the table and funeral service paid for by the government. I imagine you will find your tasks here both far easier and unexpectedly harder then what you are used too; I did"
Hans paused for a moment before noting an important detail
"I think I did not catch your name, what was it soldier?"
Hans heard the hesitation and defiance in the second recruit, he had expected as much from at least some of the recruits which was why he had brought up the matter now rather then later; if he let any doubts develop in their minds as to the realities of their mission it could spell disaster to the entire garrison so it was better to address the problem now rather then later.
"Recruit Halken you are absolutely correct, if we start shooting people in the street for just marching around with signs and shouting about this or that we deliver a crippling blow to the sovereignty of our nation. One crack in our calmness and dedication to the state and we may slowly loss our sense of duty and begin to dispose of those we ourselves consider threats and thus become an even greater threat to the people. This has always been the problem with deploying a fully armed military force inside a city but in these times and especially the upcoming elections we have no choice but to police this once proud capital as if it was an occupied territory.
This city was once united and indeed our news services do try to make it look that way but now this city has become the ideological battle ground of the people and we the central garrison are right in the middle of it all. Our job is to make sure the Ultra nationalists do not start rioting with the Red's or to deal the Militarists who riot with the globalists... stuff like that.
It's because of our interference that all these groups share one common trait; they hate us, they hate us for denying them the chance to crack flesh and brake bones and thus their anger and frustrations are directed at you my young comrades who have nothing to do with this predicament. If they could they would drag you out of your bed and skin you alive.
You could argue that there are those who are not like that at all and you would be correct however these are ether the by standers who just want to get on with their lives and avoid trouble and the victims we are tasked to protect against the mobs. Nether are of much use which is why all garrison troops are expected to carry a weapon at all times and if leaving the military sector travel in groups for added security.
You should not worry about protestors with signs private Halken… worry about them when they take out the guns. Worry about them when they rush you screaming for your blood, worry about them when a small flame or a large one finally ignites the massive ammunition and explosives warehouse this city has become… and quite literally so!"
Hans had gone too far but at least he had delivered the point, Hans had seen the results of revolution in his home land. One day it was the red's who where in charge, the other it was the ultra nationalists and before long the people wanted the iron hand of order only a king could produce.
The dark haired man moved to speak just as the mobs began to collide on either side. Whatever he said, if he said anything at all, was drowned out by roar of the crowd. For a moment, Svetlana only stood within the crowd, her draft papers offered before her, as blows were dealt and taken. Then, a uniformed and marginally older man caught the fist of an ultranationalist close by. Shaken from her rage, Svetlana started and quickly stuffed the draft letter into her dress pocket.
What am I thinking? All this would accomplish is making me look like some kind of enemy of the state, a draft dodger… and a true Drachman doesn’t back down.
Gripping her duffle bag with resolve, Svetlana forced her way through the crowd, throwing a few elbows and shoves of her own as needed, though they had calmed considerably since the older man’s appearance.
“Military dog! You are here to oppress our right to free speech!”
“Oh please.”
That was all Svetlana heard before breaking free of the protestor’s lines. Many had unfurled their fists and turned to face the man in uniform—he appeared to be of substantial rank, though Svetlana didn’t know enough about such things to say which—but she wasn’t sticking around. Svetlana needed to get to the draft office, to go through with her enlistment. To prove to herself she had the guts to do so, even if some part of her wished she didn’t.
And regardless, hanging around after that kind of show of disloyalty was simply ill-advised.
Moving forward with newfound momentum, Svetlana turned out of the square just as a flash of blue light flashed through the crowd. She cringed slightly, her expression mainly one of distaste. For her, alchemy had always been a source of discomfort. Whatever forces afforded alchemist such powers, she had never attempted to study them.
The most natural things in the world, Svetlana believed, required no such thought at all. Only understanding.
At her footsteps fell on the pavement walkway, the straps on her boots clicking definitively with each stride, the slow moving figure before her became closer. The figure was a girl, dark haired and, to Svetlana, small.
She was over a head taller than her, she quickly realized, and it was for this reason that she barely noticed her until she was right on her heels.
“Gah! Look out kiddo!”
With that, Svetlana pivoted on her heel and swerved to the side.
What am I thinking? All this would accomplish is making me look like some kind of enemy of the state, a draft dodger… and a true Drachman doesn’t back down.
Gripping her duffle bag with resolve, Svetlana forced her way through the crowd, throwing a few elbows and shoves of her own as needed, though they had calmed considerably since the older man’s appearance.
“Military dog! You are here to oppress our right to free speech!”
“Oh please.”
That was all Svetlana heard before breaking free of the protestor’s lines. Many had unfurled their fists and turned to face the man in uniform—he appeared to be of substantial rank, though Svetlana didn’t know enough about such things to say which—but she wasn’t sticking around. Svetlana needed to get to the draft office, to go through with her enlistment. To prove to herself she had the guts to do so, even if some part of her wished she didn’t.
And regardless, hanging around after that kind of show of disloyalty was simply ill-advised.
Moving forward with newfound momentum, Svetlana turned out of the square just as a flash of blue light flashed through the crowd. She cringed slightly, her expression mainly one of distaste. For her, alchemy had always been a source of discomfort. Whatever forces afforded alchemist such powers, she had never attempted to study them.
The most natural things in the world, Svetlana believed, required no such thought at all. Only understanding.
At her footsteps fell on the pavement walkway, the straps on her boots clicking definitively with each stride, the slow moving figure before her became closer. The figure was a girl, dark haired and, to Svetlana, small.
She was over a head taller than her, she quickly realized, and it was for this reason that she barely noticed her until she was right on her heels.
“Gah! Look out kiddo!”
With that, Svetlana pivoted on her heel and swerved to the side.
Ayami's head snapped up, and her trains of thought fled from her mind as she realized she had almost collided with a dark-haired girl who now stood to the side of her. She looked over at the girl, heaving an exasperated sigh as she finally registered that the girl had absentmindedly labeled her as a 'kiddo.' Ayami without a doubt, absolutely despised being called a child due to her small size. However, she knew better than to go on a tirade of nonsensical anger. She quickly composed herself and met the girl's curious gaze.
"I apologize for almost clashing into you, I was too lost in my pondering to pay any attention to where I was going," Ayami said nonchalantly.
She scrutinized the girl thoughtfully, and realized that she had to be at least five years older than Ayami. Obviously, this was an indication to Ayami that the word 'girl' was not exactly a suitable name to call this person, and a 'young woman' was more appropriate. The woman seemed to emit an aura of innocent youth, which to Ayami was much better than a majority of the people she had met in Amestris who harbored feelings of self-importance and hate towards others.
"I apologize for almost clashing into you, I was too lost in my pondering to pay any attention to where I was going," Ayami said nonchalantly.
She scrutinized the girl thoughtfully, and realized that she had to be at least five years older than Ayami. Obviously, this was an indication to Ayami that the word 'girl' was not exactly a suitable name to call this person, and a 'young woman' was more appropriate. The woman seemed to emit an aura of innocent youth, which to Ayami was much better than a majority of the people she had met in Amestris who harbored feelings of self-importance and hate towards others.
Such a short nap.
But Hal couldn't help it. He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and nearly toppling off the couch. It had been hardly fifteen minutes but his nightmares worked fast. He stood slowly and checked the couch. Huey was still sleeping, thankfully. It was then he realized that he'd been sweating a bit. Damn these recurring nightmares. They couldn't even grant him an evening nap.
"Guess I'll do some more work..." Hal mumbled, walking off. He walked around to an inconspicuous door near the back of the house with a small padlock on it. Hal gripped the thing and, after spinning the dials to his birthday's date, popped it off with ease. The door creaked open smoothly and revealed a staircase that descended into darkness. With a sigh Hal shoved the padlock in his pocket and descended, quietly closing the door behind him.
With the flick of a switch the small room lit up and revealed its secrets. It was a laboratory, stuffed with working tables and a vast amount of machines and metal bits and bobs. Hal head straight to the center of the room where a large, flat table was set. On it was a mask, bone-white and crafted to look gaunt and faintly terrifying. The narrow eye slits also helped with the frightening look but those weren't what made it unique.
"Here's my baby," he said with a smirk, gripping the mask and lifting it. As it rose a strap was revealed in the back and on its inner lining there were countless tiny wires, smaller pads, and other inconceivably small but massively important pieces. The thing was a technological marvel and Hal's secret project. An original design, the thing was designed to amplify the mental strength of the user, giving them the unbelievable ability to control the world around them using only their mind. Of course, he hadn't yet actually succeeded. But Hal was sure he was on the brink of a breakthrough that, if discovered, could lead to a massive breakthrough.
"A power to rival alchemy, the twisted so-called 'science' these savages use." Hal raised the mask to his face and strapped it on. He felt the pads pulse against his temples and a light, sharp shock ran between his ears. Suddenly it felt as if his brain was flexing, his head feeling tense and heavy. Hal sat down on a nearby stool and grunted, placing his hands on the sides of his head. It was always a strain to get the thing started but it was this start-up process that, he believed, awakened the dormant parts of the brain that would give him the power he sought.
"Ach... Ugh... I cannot fail! I am Drachman. I'll never give up!" he said through grit teeth. His head was practically on fire. The pain was incredibly intense and was making him dizzy. But then, suddenly, it all stopped, like a breeze had come and carried it all away in the blink of an eye. Hal breathed hard, still gripping the sides of his head, but his mind suddenly felt lighter than ever before. The relief he felt was immense.
"There's the tough part," Hal said aloud, standing slowly. "Now I can begin the real test."
But Hal couldn't help it. He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and nearly toppling off the couch. It had been hardly fifteen minutes but his nightmares worked fast. He stood slowly and checked the couch. Huey was still sleeping, thankfully. It was then he realized that he'd been sweating a bit. Damn these recurring nightmares. They couldn't even grant him an evening nap.
"Guess I'll do some more work..." Hal mumbled, walking off. He walked around to an inconspicuous door near the back of the house with a small padlock on it. Hal gripped the thing and, after spinning the dials to his birthday's date, popped it off with ease. The door creaked open smoothly and revealed a staircase that descended into darkness. With a sigh Hal shoved the padlock in his pocket and descended, quietly closing the door behind him.
With the flick of a switch the small room lit up and revealed its secrets. It was a laboratory, stuffed with working tables and a vast amount of machines and metal bits and bobs. Hal head straight to the center of the room where a large, flat table was set. On it was a mask, bone-white and crafted to look gaunt and faintly terrifying. The narrow eye slits also helped with the frightening look but those weren't what made it unique.
"Here's my baby," he said with a smirk, gripping the mask and lifting it. As it rose a strap was revealed in the back and on its inner lining there were countless tiny wires, smaller pads, and other inconceivably small but massively important pieces. The thing was a technological marvel and Hal's secret project. An original design, the thing was designed to amplify the mental strength of the user, giving them the unbelievable ability to control the world around them using only their mind. Of course, he hadn't yet actually succeeded. But Hal was sure he was on the brink of a breakthrough that, if discovered, could lead to a massive breakthrough.
"A power to rival alchemy, the twisted so-called 'science' these savages use." Hal raised the mask to his face and strapped it on. He felt the pads pulse against his temples and a light, sharp shock ran between his ears. Suddenly it felt as if his brain was flexing, his head feeling tense and heavy. Hal sat down on a nearby stool and grunted, placing his hands on the sides of his head. It was always a strain to get the thing started but it was this start-up process that, he believed, awakened the dormant parts of the brain that would give him the power he sought.
"Ach... Ugh... I cannot fail! I am Drachman. I'll never give up!" he said through grit teeth. His head was practically on fire. The pain was incredibly intense and was making him dizzy. But then, suddenly, it all stopped, like a breeze had come and carried it all away in the blink of an eye. Hal breathed hard, still gripping the sides of his head, but his mind suddenly felt lighter than ever before. The relief he felt was immense.
"There's the tough part," Hal said aloud, standing slowly. "Now I can begin the real test."
As Carvel approached the major, he was almost stopped by a few other officers, though they let him pass after realizing what section he was in. As heapproached the major complemented Carvel's timeliness and introduced himself as Major Desmond Ruler. A name that Carvel recognized as being a rather influential figure in the defense of fort brigs. Though he hadn't heard of any reason why the man might be in central.
Major Ruler quickly took lead of the conversation. Giving Carvel cursory information on what had just occurred. The Ultranationalists and Reds had come to near conflict, so the Major had taken it upon himself to step in on the action. Then the Major offered to recount his side of the story for Carvel, if he wanted to tag along for a bit. Carvel nodded and they quickly set off by foot. Though not before Ruler picked up some strange device from his shoe heel.
The walk was informative, but rather uneventful. He got some useful information on the Reds and Ultranationalists, and developed a pretty cohesive timeline of what had occurred at the square. Certainly enough to relay what had occurred to Evariste if he wanted to print the story. Though Carvel wasn't planning on taking this one to print unless he was ordered to. It seemed like the local newspapers would be able to do just a fine job themselves. Also, the interview he had with the major didn't seem too interesting. Not that Major Ruler didn't do a good job explaining what he saw as the facts, but what Carvel wanted was something to humanize the Major. Something people could relate to and help understand where he was coming from. The only kind of response akin what Carvel wanted was near the end when Carvel asked the Major what he thought about how the near riot made him feel.
The Major had needed to think for a moment. Then he answered by being displeased about how Fuehrer Mustang is being demonized for not forcing our nations people into the frozen north for a war that no one wanted. He had noted on his experience at Fort Brigs, and how he'd seen most of the war-torn north. He stated clearly that he wouldn't wish his experiences and what he had witnessed on anyone.
In the end Carvel came away with a few pages of timeline and one really good quote. Not as lucrative as he might have hoped, but it was better than nothing. He said goodbye to the Major near the entrance to the alchemist's office. Though the Major ended on an offer for Carvel to attach to the 13th Garrison. Something he had already planned on anyways. Still, it was often good to get the CO's approval. It made everything go a little more smoothly.
He didn't dilly dally on the way to the garrison. Though he downed the overpriced apple he still had a hold of on the way there. On the way he passed a strange woman with a clip board who gave him the evil eye as he passed. Though he simply shrugged the occurrence off. When he arrived at the Barracks he stopped outside for a few minutes and snapped a photo of the entrance. After he let his camera down, he stared at the large number thirteen hanging over the entrance. His thoughts returned to his brother who was turning sixteen soon. If Havel was drafted, he might be staying in someplace like this. Carvel zoned out as his mind wandered.
Major Ruler quickly took lead of the conversation. Giving Carvel cursory information on what had just occurred. The Ultranationalists and Reds had come to near conflict, so the Major had taken it upon himself to step in on the action. Then the Major offered to recount his side of the story for Carvel, if he wanted to tag along for a bit. Carvel nodded and they quickly set off by foot. Though not before Ruler picked up some strange device from his shoe heel.
The walk was informative, but rather uneventful. He got some useful information on the Reds and Ultranationalists, and developed a pretty cohesive timeline of what had occurred at the square. Certainly enough to relay what had occurred to Evariste if he wanted to print the story. Though Carvel wasn't planning on taking this one to print unless he was ordered to. It seemed like the local newspapers would be able to do just a fine job themselves. Also, the interview he had with the major didn't seem too interesting. Not that Major Ruler didn't do a good job explaining what he saw as the facts, but what Carvel wanted was something to humanize the Major. Something people could relate to and help understand where he was coming from. The only kind of response akin what Carvel wanted was near the end when Carvel asked the Major what he thought about how the near riot made him feel.
The Major had needed to think for a moment. Then he answered by being displeased about how Fuehrer Mustang is being demonized for not forcing our nations people into the frozen north for a war that no one wanted. He had noted on his experience at Fort Brigs, and how he'd seen most of the war-torn north. He stated clearly that he wouldn't wish his experiences and what he had witnessed on anyone.
In the end Carvel came away with a few pages of timeline and one really good quote. Not as lucrative as he might have hoped, but it was better than nothing. He said goodbye to the Major near the entrance to the alchemist's office. Though the Major ended on an offer for Carvel to attach to the 13th Garrison. Something he had already planned on anyways. Still, it was often good to get the CO's approval. It made everything go a little more smoothly.
He didn't dilly dally on the way to the garrison. Though he downed the overpriced apple he still had a hold of on the way there. On the way he passed a strange woman with a clip board who gave him the evil eye as he passed. Though he simply shrugged the occurrence off. When he arrived at the Barracks he stopped outside for a few minutes and snapped a photo of the entrance. After he let his camera down, he stared at the large number thirteen hanging over the entrance. His thoughts returned to his brother who was turning sixteen soon. If Havel was drafted, he might be staying in someplace like this. Carvel zoned out as his mind wandered.
Andrew just scowled and turned away, leaving the Barracks at the moment, muttering that this wasn’t some savage northern brothel, it was Central, and Amestrian’s were not like that; along with various other obscenities.
-=-=-=-
(Two Days later)
The Unit’s had had two days to mobilize, having just gotten their new recruits this time was spent letting the Draftees get their uniforms and equipment and getting taught enough to be ready for a command review. That was good as Desmond had just spent the last few minutes trying to talk Command out of it. “But sir, we’re talking about an entire battalion of new recruits, most of them draftees, you can’t expect them too-”
“Major, I understand your concern but the General is insistent, get your unit’s lined up and ready.” The voice on the other line was low and gruff, that of a superior officer.
“But, Lt. Colonel Wells I-!”
“Oh and ensure that a member of the MSJ is there, the General wants his address to the Central Garrison to be broadcast.”
Desmond almost disagreed again but sighed instead, “Yes sir, understood… Yes, I’ll make sure that they are presentable, Sir… Yes, I’ll get it done sir. Good bye.” He took the phone from his ear and looked at it, awaiting the tone to signal he was alone, “Stuck up son of a bitch!” he roared as he slammed the metal receiver down on the desk, making his assistant outside the door jump in her chair.
She came around the corner cautiously, “Sir?”
Desmond was still fuming but he managed to hide it by turning about to look out the window, “Send orders to the Barracks leaders, get their recruits presentable, we got brass up our ass in three hours.”
“Yes sir, right away… anything else?”
He turned back and sat down, having been slightly deflated, rubbing his temples, “Yeah, get the MSJ to send a reporter and a Radio team… please…”
-=-=-=-
Halken stood as the base loud speaker reported for all troop to set up for a Review, “Review? You mean now? We’ve only been here a few days!” he didn’t even know most of his barracks mate’s names.
-=-=-=-
(Two Days later)
The Unit’s had had two days to mobilize, having just gotten their new recruits this time was spent letting the Draftees get their uniforms and equipment and getting taught enough to be ready for a command review. That was good as Desmond had just spent the last few minutes trying to talk Command out of it. “But sir, we’re talking about an entire battalion of new recruits, most of them draftees, you can’t expect them too-”
“Major, I understand your concern but the General is insistent, get your unit’s lined up and ready.” The voice on the other line was low and gruff, that of a superior officer.
“But, Lt. Colonel Wells I-!”
“Oh and ensure that a member of the MSJ is there, the General wants his address to the Central Garrison to be broadcast.”
Desmond almost disagreed again but sighed instead, “Yes sir, understood… Yes, I’ll make sure that they are presentable, Sir… Yes, I’ll get it done sir. Good bye.” He took the phone from his ear and looked at it, awaiting the tone to signal he was alone, “Stuck up son of a bitch!” he roared as he slammed the metal receiver down on the desk, making his assistant outside the door jump in her chair.
She came around the corner cautiously, “Sir?”
Desmond was still fuming but he managed to hide it by turning about to look out the window, “Send orders to the Barracks leaders, get their recruits presentable, we got brass up our ass in three hours.”
“Yes sir, right away… anything else?”
He turned back and sat down, having been slightly deflated, rubbing his temples, “Yeah, get the MSJ to send a reporter and a Radio team… please…”
-=-=-=-
Halken stood as the base loud speaker reported for all troop to set up for a Review, “Review? You mean now? We’ve only been here a few days!” he didn’t even know most of his barracks mate’s names.
- 31 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
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View All » Add Character » 11 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Hal Keddrick
A dedicated father and loyal agent of Drachman.
Kambria Demara
The younger sister of Lance Corporal Avan Demara and one of the draftees. She is a young but talented girl who is interested in alchemy.
Ayami Ikeda
A headstrong girl who has ambitions of changing the world around her.
Svetlana Rhada
A tenacious young woman more at homes in the wilds of the north than the streets of Central.
Shu Feng Eckhart
The half-Xingese Second Lieutenant from Eastern Command: Searching for the truth behind the lies.
Avan Demara
A dedicated soldier working to help and protect his family.
Hans Murray Clark
With AA guns like these Prayer is a more effective weapon against the bomber
Saben Edevane
A volunteer for the military, the half-Ishvallan is ready to thrust himself into the midst of Amestrian struggles while searching for a purpose.
Andrew Halken
A young draftee from New Optain with a complex mindset and a good heart.
Desmond Ruler
Known as the Time Delay Alchemist, Major Ruler is a veteran and adjunct at the Briggs Mountain Fortress however recently his former commander Fuhrer Mustang has recalled him to Central... why is anyone's guess.
Trending
Svetlana Rhada
A tenacious young woman more at homes in the wilds of the north than the streets of Central.
Shu Feng Eckhart
The half-Xingese Second Lieutenant from Eastern Command: Searching for the truth behind the lies.
Ayami Ikeda
A headstrong girl who has ambitions of changing the world around her.
Avan Demara
A dedicated soldier working to help and protect his family.
Andrew Halken
A young draftee from New Optain with a complex mindset and a good heart.
Hans Murray Clark
With AA guns like these Prayer is a more effective weapon against the bomber
Desmond Ruler
Known as the Time Delay Alchemist, Major Ruler is a veteran and adjunct at the Briggs Mountain Fortress however recently his former commander Fuhrer Mustang has recalled him to Central... why is anyone's guess.
Saben Edevane
A volunteer for the military, the half-Ishvallan is ready to thrust himself into the midst of Amestrian struggles while searching for a purpose.
Kambria Demara
The younger sister of Lance Corporal Avan Demara and one of the draftees. She is a young but talented girl who is interested in alchemy.
Hal Keddrick
A dedicated father and loyal agent of Drachman.
Most Followed
Hal Keddrick
A dedicated father and loyal agent of Drachman.
Shu Feng Eckhart
The half-Xingese Second Lieutenant from Eastern Command: Searching for the truth behind the lies.
Andrew Halken
A young draftee from New Optain with a complex mindset and a good heart.
Kambria Demara
The younger sister of Lance Corporal Avan Demara and one of the draftees. She is a young but talented girl who is interested in alchemy.
Saben Edevane
A volunteer for the military, the half-Ishvallan is ready to thrust himself into the midst of Amestrian struggles while searching for a purpose.
Ayami Ikeda
A headstrong girl who has ambitions of changing the world around her.
Desmond Ruler
Known as the Time Delay Alchemist, Major Ruler is a veteran and adjunct at the Briggs Mountain Fortress however recently his former commander Fuhrer Mustang has recalled him to Central... why is anyone's guess.
Svetlana Rhada
A tenacious young woman more at homes in the wilds of the north than the streets of Central.
Hans Murray Clark
With AA guns like these Prayer is a more effective weapon against the bomber
Avan Demara
A dedicated soldier working to help and protect his family.
View All » Places
31 posts · 11 characters present · last post 2012-09-25 14:18:46 »
The capital city of Amestris and the setting of our roleplay on August 13th 1935.
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National Central Library
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National Central Library
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