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Entry tags:
- * setting: gallipoli 1916,
- armitage hux [star wars],
- ashitaka [princess mononoke],
- bucky barnes [marvel],
- daenerys targaryen [asoiaf],
- eren yeager [attack on titan],
- hei [darker than black],
- heine rammsteiner [dogs],
- kylo ren [star wars],
- lup [dungeons & dragons],
- mamoru hijikata [until death do us part],
- merlin sawall [the chronicles of amber],
- midnighter [dc],
- mordred [fate],
- morrigan [dragon age],
- noctis lucis caelum [final fantasy],
- prompto argentum [final fantasy],
- rey [star wars],
- ryuji sakamoto [persona],
- siegfried [fate],
- soldier 76 [overwatch]
AND THE ANZAC LEGENDS DIDN'T MENTION...
AND THEN SOMEONE YELLED OUT "CONTACT!";
and the bloke behind me swore
THE SILENT WAR
The news of the day of the retreat spreads like wildfire through the Trenches. Leading up to the final date, all soldiers on the ground are instructed to limit their gunfire, to make it look like the usual traditions for warfare, which have determined much of human history up until this point: no one really goes to war in winter. Everyone is to maintain a verbal and physical presence, but the time to confuse the Turks has really become paramount. At times, whole sections are ordered to be perfectly quiet until the last possible second and then spring out before the Turks can get too close.
Which is just how it is supposed to be. In fact, for COST recruits, there's a real sense that this might just go according to plan.
Around this time, the Rear Guard signup starts. COST recruits are met with some surprise by Captain Lewis; he will blink in surprise at a group so new wanting to volunteer so readily, but he's glad and gives everyone who joins a big warm handshake.
Each day gets closer and the mood of the soldiers becomes more jubilant and tenser; the erratic sense of relief that they might be leaving what has become the graveyard of so many friends and, often times, family, combines with the frustration of not being able to do anything but wait. This leads to more than a few fights breaking out, often over nothing important. Just the edge of temporary relief.
Then, before dawn on Jan 7th, the evacuation begins in earnest. It's possible to see it from the top of some sections: a bustling populace until it trickles down to the ghost of the Trenches, where there is nothing left but the rear guard. It's a smooth, efficient evacuation.
The Rear Guard
This is a skeleton army, just enough to make it seem no one has left. Everyone is encouraged to come up with ways to make it seem like there are more men than there actually are.
The local soldiers have come up with a particularly sneaky one - a rope is wrapped around the trigger of a rifle, just loose enough not to pull it, and from the end of it hangs a bucket. Another container slowly drips water into the bucket until it fills and drops, pulling the rope around the trigger and firing the gun. Soldiers are tasked with emptying the water, refilling the cannister, or checking the gun if it looks like it has jammed.
Outside of that, if someone has a sneaky idea to keep up the ruse - even if it's lighting small fires or singing loudly in a chorus to give the notion of people still around - it's all encouraged.
THE THUNDER OF GUNS
Everything is going well. It's not even that worrying when a thick mist comes up, heavy and difficult to see through. But, for those with powers, it prickles oddly on bare skin, followed by a pressure that builds in the back of the mind. It seems to dull any extra powers or senses; magic and its ilk are still usable, but require more concentration to reach now.
In the stillness of the night, however, there is no breeze to move the fog on and it settles like oil through the trench.
It's 1am when the first shell drops. It falls to the east of the recruits' position at Lone Pine. It's a shell that comes down and splits apart the night air in an explosion of shrapnel, dirt and heat. Then a second, then a third, now starting from both sides.
All the soldiers' clamour out of the way and Captain Lewis can be heard shouting over the din: "Into the Tunnels!"
But not everyone can make it. The shells are coming steadily now and one step in the wrong direction is the difference between life and death in such a small space. It's chaos - some soldiers are killed outright. Others get buried under the debris and dirt. Others catch shrapnel that, if not fatal, is enough to throw them and make it hard to get up. But COST's mission is the same as it always is: save as many of these men's lives as possible.
There are four direct entries into the tunnels, all about four or five meters apart, and they're all interconnected within the tunnels themselves.
One by one, however, shells fall and destroy the entrances to the tunnels.
WARTIME ARCHEOLOGY
It takes another three hours for the bombardment to stop and, once the tunnel entrances collapse, it becomes very dark in there. Might be time to fish out a match and strike up a torch.
While Officers previously told soldiers to keep out of the tunnels and otherwise left them ignored, these tunnels are huge. Not like the ones in other sections of the coast; here, they seem to go far into No Man's Land. They're crudely constructed and only some sections are reenforced with heavy beams of wood. But once journeying into them, there are all sorts of things to be found. There are old gas lamps that can be used to light your way or hung on a secure nook or cranny. The stone has been worn smooth in some sections, and other parts have been carved with graffiti of the soldiers who cut them out.
Some locations go down a few steps, while others go up and small holes seem to have been dug through the roof of the tunnels.
It's definitely best to get away from the front of the tunnels, where the bombing is still going on. There are wounded to be seen to and secured from bleeding out, people to find to make sure everyone is still alive. Maybe you want to go farther into the interweaving tunnels to see what else can be recovered. Or maybe you're being stubbornly sensible and looking for a way to dig your way out again, once the bombs stop firing.
Either way, it's a long, exhausting wait in the dark as the ground shakes, showering dust and rocks over everyone.
INTO THE DAWN
The sun has risen when the firing stops - and it's time to search for a way out of here.
Stepping into the light reveals utter destruction. The concentrated bombing has done its work; everything is strewn or buried in dirt and rubble. Machine guns are overturned and parts of the Trench have collapsed; going over the top would be disastrous, given that the Turks have no idea what is happening and will pick off anyone who sticks their head up.
There also isn't...anyone else around. All that's left is this one segment of the rear guard, just 500 men and the COST soldiers. It isn't possible to discern if the other groups have been evacuated or killed at this point.
It's time to consolidate, count their losses, see who is alive and who isn't, and salvage what supplies are left after some digging clean up is done. Work out who needs to stand watch. For now, Captain Lewis' orders are to use the tunnels as a new base of operations.
SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
They appear first as a shimmer of off-light, no more than a haze against the resettling mist. A faint shape against the grey - the long lines of a dog's face, almost Jackal-like, in a clean black uniform that gives more to the appearance of shadows - moves closer, but not too close. They could almost be a trick of the light, out of the corner of your eye. Almost intangible.
They're not moving closer, however, choosing to hang back in the rubble of the Trenches. The ANZAC soldiers don't seem to notice them at all.
Ten minutes after they're first spotted, Commander Grothia issues a priority message:
Contact. Regency soldiers. Do not engage.
If a shot does get fired that way, whether it's from Turkish or ANZAC soldiers unknowingly or from COST operatives: it's quick but, as the bullet seems to come into contact with them, the air around them shimmers blue, like it's hitting a field of light. This effect seems to be stronger when they're standing close together and, as of now, they remain unhurt.
Moving closer to them increases that feeling of mind fog on powered characters; for the unmagical, a sense of unease prickles up. It's a feeling not unlike the beginnings of the time-step, the hum of sensation that marks a transfer through time. Veteran recruits will easily recognize the buzz that dances through their bones before it stills as they move away; rookies might recall it from their initial arrival from BASE.
READ THE OOC INFOPAGE.
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[Prompto puts his hands up, appeasing.]
My bad? I'll just assume it's what it says on the tin, then.
[Heroic and a spirit... Astute. Deep. Why not.]
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I'll explain more after we've met up with Noctis.
[ It's dark and this boy has proven that he's a bit of a klutz already, so he reaches around to grip at his shoulder and start steering him in front like he would a child. The lantern will light up their path somewhat, but Prompto still needs to be careful about where he steps. The ground isn't totally even. ]
Are you wounded anywhere? I'll take a look.
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No, I'm good. [Never mind he's been favoring his left hand over his right the whole time and I forgot to write it into my tags like a dingus.] What's up with Noct? Is he ok?
i forgot to change my default okay
They have a bit of a walk ahead of them, anyway.
He'll let him go once it's clear he's reoriented his sense of direction, but Achilles will hover close, just in case. ]
He's fine physically. He's exhausted, but that goes for pretty much every human here. [ Including Prompto himself, he imagines. ] We've lost a lot of men today.
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[It's subdued.]
And that wasn't supposed to happen, right?
[He looks over at Achilles, almost expectant; he just...assumes everyone here knows more than he does, baselessly or not, so.]
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I don't know. I suppose we'll find out in due time.
[ Whether they failed or succeeded. Achilles has no idea, but this entire idea of measuring success by whether things go according to history seems flawed. But that's coming from a man whose ideals are archaic. ]
How long have you known Noctis?
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[Prompto unconsciously straightens up, eyes fixing on the tunnel ahead. Not because he has to think about the question, but because he wasn't expecting it.]
Five years? Since we were in high school. [He glances sidelong at Achilles; not suspicious, just curious.] Why?
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[ He smiles, more to himself than at Prompto. Though he's sure their relationship isn't the same, he's reminded of Patroclus, a friend he had since he was quite young. ]
You must be important to him.
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Oh. [He thinks of the barcode on his wrist, of Noct's insistence it doesn't matter, and he believes Noct; there's no question of that. But he still feels shaky about it and he can't pinpoint why.]
Weeell, we are best friends. [His half-smile is a little tenuous, though.] How about you? Usually Noct's the one getting sent on fetch quests instead of the other way around.
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[ He makes a show of how he has to think about this, tipping his chin up with a finger at his chin. ]
I've known him for about two months.
That guy's my Master, now. [ He'll be vague on purpose. ] I expect a great reward once I return you safely to him.
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[Oh god, there's that skepticism again.]
How'd he sell that one? I guess "master of napping" might be convincing.
[Just casually dragging the King of Lucis, nbd.]
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How's that so hard to believe? Isn't he your king now?
[ Reaching out to nudge him a bit. ]
Careful about what you say next.
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What, are you gonna rat me out? 'Cause I'd totally say that to his face.
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I was warning you about how I might react, actually.
[ It's half a joke, since Achilles takes insults seriously and wouldn't stand for anyone slandering Noctis unless it was well warranted. At least he understands that Prompto is joking as well. ]
He's my Master, after all. [ They should be finding Noctis soon, especially if he's rooting around in the tunnels. Achilles can feel him.... not that way pervert. ]
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Yeah, that's kind of weird, dude? But maybe that's just the pleb in me talking.
[Prompto: blissfully unaware of everything as like half of his CR has some kind of extrasensory ability.]
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[ No matter, though. They've found Noctis!
And Achilles will quickly leave Prompto to move to the side of his Master. ]
There you are! Look at what I found.
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Hah...? [ And then his eyes widen as he scrambles to his feet, a flash of obvious relief overtaking normally placid features if only for a moment. ]
Prompto, hey... You're okay?
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Yeah, it's been kinda crazy, [UNDERSTATEMENT... he's trying not to think about that, though] but still in one piece.
[He tucks his right wrist behind his back and gives a half wave with his left, kind of like "see?"] You good? You look pretty beat.
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That's going to be Achilles if he doesn't get his praise.
For now, he steps to the side out of respect for Noctis. He needs to confirm his friend is okay, right? ]
He's tired, so I'll take him somewhere to sleep soon. [ Like.... he's his mom. ]
You can rest your head in my lap, Master.
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I bet I look better than you do. Are you seriously going to give me a hard time about my looks? [ That hand drops for a little shove at his shoulder, definitely the affection shown only to a very close comrade. Or, more appropriately, to a good friend. ]
--thanks, Achilles, but I'm okay. I really owe you one for helping Prompto out.
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The one you're rocking right now does take grunge to a new level.
[Never mind it's true Prompto almost definitely looks grosser, coupled with a jacket too big for him and hair so mucked up it's barely its normal color.]
But yeah, thanks. Just, uh, sneak up on me less next time?
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Should've seen his face. [ Ha. Ha.
Anyway, he can't believe his invitation was shouldered. Except he can. This is Noctis, after all. ]
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What, did you spook him pretty bad? I'm gonna' guess this guy didn't punch you, though.
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[But he has the decency to look briefly guilty at the reminder he maybe kinda sorta pointed a gun in Achilles' face, before it gives way to curiosity.]
You punched him? [He looks from Noct to Achilles.] He punched you?
[He actually finds that funny, sorry y'all.]
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Twice. [ FLATLY. ] But that's how he impressed me, honestly. He's probably the only person in COST besides my teacher that can lay a scratch on me.
[ There's a bit of pride to be found beneath the layers of his words. He's got himself a strong and worthy Master.
Prompto's gun would do jack shit against Achilles. ]
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