Stevens was forcefully pushed into Weasel's bunk room. "Damn, looks like everyone is starting to hate me." Stevens looked down at the bunk to see Weasel sitting there. "Weasel, what the hell did you tell that guy that got us in so deep man? I told you to inform him about the squads losses, and that Roland was set to be shipped home, what the hell happened?" Stevens suddenly felt very sick,. He hadn't felt like this since the first night that one of his squadmates died, five years ago. Stevens just sat where he was and stared at the ground. He eventually pulled a small piece of paper out of his vest, a picture of his wife, and his 4 month old daughter, Anna. He stared at his family, shaken by the truth that he most likely wouldn't leave this place ever again. "Sarah," he whispered, and a tear fell noticeably down his cheek.

(OOC: Yeah, I get what you are saying, I honestly don't agree with Roland's decisions, but I figured that the no man left behind policy applied with strength here. I'll try to tidy up Steven's role in the next fight. Stay back and shoot the bad guy. Leave the rest up to Morgan and Gunney. By the way, who are we down to now that most of these people have stopped posting and that Roland is dead?)

"Stevens, you saved not anly my ass, you saved Roland's too, I killed him, not you, I never asked for a promotion for me, you deserve it, not me" Weasel rubbed his face, "I deserved that punch and more" "I'm going to go talk with Morgan" he walked to morgan's bunk, finding Gunny on the way "Sir, appreciate me alling you sir, it is a title stating superiority and respect, I'm thinking I respect you, and thats exactly what makes you strong, no one dies, i wont allow it either, and sir.......Weasels don't sleep when the enemy is so close" he continued walking to Morgan's bunk "Sir, as I said to Sergent Gunny, the word sir is a sign of respect and supioriority, you have gained my respect as a leader. And i came to tell yo, sir, I was not requestiong a promotion for myself, but for Stevens, I killed Roland, Stevens saved his life and mine"

for the love of god! weasel is spelled with an 's'!

Stevens tried to stop Weasel, but failed miserably. After a few minutes, he stood up and walked outside. He walked to his bunkroom with as much haste as his stomach allowed him. He charged into the room with a look of a barely restrained hell about to be let loose on the other Private "Weasel shut the hell up! How many times do we have to tell you, think before you act." Stevens looked at the Sergeant. "Please excuse private Weasel sir! I think he hit his head a little bit too hard. I will escort him back to his bunk immediately sir! Sorry for this inconvienence" Stevens turned to Weasel and gestured for him to start moving. "The last thing I need now, Weasel, is for the sarge to start getting cranky at me. Now get back there and get some rest man, you're gonna need it." Stevens didn't even bother to wait to see if Weasel had left, he just sat on the ground and stared at his boots. I'll be home soon Sarah, I promise.

"thinkin about your girl? your family?" Weasel didnt leave the bunk. "Well, you'll be back to them soon, I aint gonna let you die, I promise, Roland was too much already" He sat down net to stevens, Weasel was on Steven's left. "look at my, ear, my cheek, I got both of these grim reminders by my own stupidity, but I'll do it again to get you back to all your family" Weasel walked out I need some weed. When weasel was back in his bunk he searched his bag; the picture was gone. It was dark now, I'll sneak out, get the picture, get 'lucky' back and get back in, nobody can catch weasel. He snuck around and found his picture, there was a bloody smear from his lips when he kisssed it before he passed out. He wiped the smear off. Where's 'lucky'?

I'll leave itt up to side or strange whether or not i get caught......

Corporal Grendel Wallus hopped off the military truck, landing in a mound of snow. He wiped the frost from his face, sending it falling towards his power armor. He carried his helmet in one hand, and a golden .50 AE Desert Eagle in the other. It shimmered in the faint rays of sunlight that shone through the dense, black clouds. He pulled back the slide, revealing a bronze .50 round in the chamber. He let go, and the slide popped forward. It was a very intimidating gun, one most military officers weren't allowed to use. But the Corporal had certainly impressed his superiors when he downed 28 targets with a supplied Desert Eagle, in exactly a minute and a half.

He had painted it gold because it was his favorite color. It was quite the coincidence, for his hazel eyes appeared almost a faint gold in the sunlight. Wallus was a big man by standards, he had arms thicker than the necks of most. He had a thin chin however, but you couldn't see it due to all the greyish-black hair there. Grendel had a short cut, with long sideburns and thick eyebrows. Despite his size he was incredibly fast. Some said he would be a Sergeant of possibly a CO of some squad in a few years. He damn sure knew how to use his shotgun.

Speaking of the Franchi SPAS 12, Wallus wasn't quite sure where it was. His shotgun had been taken by one of his commanders, Howard or something like that, to the weapons locker in his pre-selected snow cot. A sergeant tried to take the Eagle as well, but shortly after that attempt he was sent to the Infirmery for a broken wrist. The rest of his belongings, including a tool set (with lockpicks, hammers, nails, drills, electronic devices, and his lucky lead pipe) were inside his backpack, a massive brown bag. Also in this bag were dozens of grenades and explosives. Incendiary, Fragmentation, Plasma, Shrapnel, Stun, Smoke, Flash, everything. Even a few Claymores and Trip Mines that he found in the weapons cache back at the holding camp.

Corporal Grendel Wallus took off into the snowy night, towards the trench he would be staying in. It was a big criss-cross of deep and wide lines in the ground, with small fox holes for cover, and snow cots filled with bunks, lockers, and a pair of stoves. Corporal followed a path to his cot, using a hand-drawn map Howard had given him upon arrival. Upon entering the cot, he found his pre-selected bunk mate. "Stevens" his nametag said.
"Evenin'," said Wallus in a deep voice. Grendel surveyed the man, noting his grim appearance. War's stench had not yet left this place.
"What's up with that?" said Wallus, pointing to the golden coin hung around Steven's neck.

Stevens looked down at the gold coin solemnly. "I think you have the wrong room Corporal." He pointed to Morgan who was sitting on the bed opposite him. "I'm sleeping with Mr. Seargent, but you might have been ordered to bunk with my pet ferret, his name's Weasel. You should find him a few bunks down that way." Stevens pointed down towards the general direction of Weasel's part of the trench.

Weasel decided to loot a few chinese bodies that got close to the bunks, he found a few hi-cap mags of 5.56 and an ak-74 (right? chinese A.R.?). He quicly tore a peice of the bandages on his chest off and made a crude strap to keep it on his back. He kept looking and found his two detonation packs, with the switch tied to them. He laughed and moved much farther out, trying to get farther into the Chinese trenches. He buried them and made a crude tripwire out of some wire he found. He ran back avoided any Chinese, he couldnt. A patrolling Chinese soldier was obviously trying the same thing Weasel was. Weasel quickly tackled and gagged him and beat him unconscious with his new ak. Weasel looted the soldier and took all of his ak mags. Screw it, lucky wasnt even that lucky, I'll bring em back a commie! Weasel dragged the Chinese soldier back, throwing him in front of the commander's hut and running. He returned into his bunk and placed his new ak on top of his footlocker. He took his boots off and finally decided to finally get some rest. His eyes shot open when he realised someone was inside with him. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! and why are you in MY bunk?!"


......who the hell am i bunking with? no one ever established that....EDIT: disregard that, had a plan for the charges all along!

When Pvt.Gursky was cleaning his bloody medical tools he saw a big man with a hudge backpack come out of a truck.While lighting a cigar he murmured to himself "I hope he isn't a dumb*ss rookie." When he was done cleaning his tools he put his cigar out in the snow. He went to the mess hall. He then walked up to the counter and said, to the woman operating the counter, "Give me a nice warm glass of coffee." The woman handed him his coffee and he walked back to his bunk and drank his coffee and then got alittle sleep.

"Names Corporal Wallus and I'm well on my way to becoming a Sergeant or a Comissioned officer, so I'd calm down before you find this here gun," Grendel paused to shake his golden Desert Eagle for effect, "prodded into your neck. And trust me, once I fire, your neck wouldn't even be reccognizable. I've blown enough heads with this to rank you up twice, Private! Now step aside!"

Wallus crossed the room, leaving his bunk mate aghast. It smelled faintly of marijuana as Grendel grabbed his Frenchi SPAS 12 shotgun from the cabinet. It was a beautiful gun. It had a matte black body, with a silver barrel and folding stock, and a dark grey pump. On top of it was a red dot sight for mid range firing. The shotgun had a mechanism in it that changed it's burst patterns to be less sparse, and huddled together. It increased both range and accuracy, as well as overall power. It could blow a hole clear through the truck Wallus arrived in. He folded the stock out, and shouldered the gun. Once again, ignoring his pot-smoking ally, Wallus left the snow cot to ask Howard for a new place to bunk. With his reputation, he might even get a place in Command.

Weasel chased Wallus out, "wait! dude, dorry, I'm in a bad mood, uum ear gone, cheek, permanent smile. watch you'll be tellin a story to your gandkids about 'I got bunked with the funny guy, he always smoked weed and had these stitches on his cheek so he looked like he was always smiling', now come on! I'm so lonely!" Weasel pretended to cry, and burst out laughing. "Nice guns you got there by the way, can I give em a try out next time we're blowing holes in them commie? they killed a man i almost died for, i want ten million Chinese men dead in compensation! and those guns could help."

Grendel put the man's pleas behind him, and continued on through the trench. He found himself right outside of command. Near it was a small post (actually a hole drilled into the ice, filled with tables and a coffee pot.)
Inside was Howard.
"Hello Sir! I would like to request a new bunk Sir! For my room mate is a pot head and a total annoyance Sir! Thank you in advance, SIR!"

Weasel went back to sleep, the happy thought of that chinese solider, wiggling and squirming in front of command, awaiting interogation...

In case its not understood yet, this is weasel's first time in the army and served in SWAT before this...

OCC: Just and FYI, for all players: If neither me or SideWynder0 post for a while or for a 1/2 hour, then STOP posting. The Rp will still be around. Also Keep your posts spread out about 2-3 posts, let other post. Thanks

Morgan walked out to the hole, still smoking his cigarette. The day had turned into night, morgan saw a new replacment, walk into the officer's bunk room, that was more lavish than any of the grunts hole's were. Commander Howard looked at the new replacement, standing infront of him, "Well soldier, your just going to have to live with Private Weazel", Howard walked out with the Corpral to his hole. Commader Howard saw Weazel smoking some weed, "GOD D*** IT PRIVATE WEAZEL, I'LL F***ING KILL YOU!", howard stomped over to weazel, and grabbed him from his bunk, throwing him to the wall, "GET RID OF THIS S*** NOW!", howard walked out, passed Sergeant Morgan who was checking the chinese trench's with his binoculars. Morgan waited till howard was gone, as he poked his head into the hole stairing at the two soldiers, "S*** weazel, your going to get hung if you keep this up", morgan returned to his bunk, and went to sleep...

Bunk Arrangements

Morgan-Stevens

Gunny-Hai (Controlled by SideWynder until the player returns)

Weazel-Grendal

Gursky- Anderson

I've dealt with this since 6th grade! I think I can handle it... "so then Grendel, youre in here with me now, and I now have no weed" Weasel coughed, "And I may be annoyance, but when I'm gone, youre gonna miss the weasel" Weasel walked out and noticed Morgan watching the Chinese, "Umm you hear any explosions, its not my fault...." Weasel ran back in and darted back to his bed. I could go out and disarm that tripwire, or laugh at yellows blowin up at night........[censored] them yellows

Weasel is spelled like W-E-A-S-E-L! no 'z'
in case you dont get it, I am aware that this is among the stupidest possible things to do, and no sane man would actually do it,

Grendel decided it was best he prepared for another fight now. The chinese were likely rallying their forces and preparing for another assault. He grabbed a large metal case from his bag, and laid it on his lap. Opening it up, he revealed dozens of shotgun rounds, all different forms of ammunition.
Bird shot, buck shot, flechette, tear gas, slugs, rubber, rock salt, door breakers, dragonbreath, widecutters, sidecutters, blastbullets, sharpnose, razortails, and even explosive rounds. He grabbed some sidecutters, buck shot, and sharpnose rounds, and loaded them in a certain order in his shotgun. He threw the excess into an ammunitions bag on his waist. He then loaded every other round into pockets that lined his chest. He noted each of their locations, and finally grabbed the shotgun itself. He slung the strap over his back, and grabbed his Desert Eagle. Willus strapped the handgun to his waist, and then looked through his backpack.

He withdrew two handfuls of grenades, which he tossed into another waist pouch. He then grabbed his "lucky pipe" and slid it into a tubular-shaped pocket on his left hip, opposite his handgun. After finally suiting up, he left his high room mate behind, and headed towards Command.

ooc- hey Don't take us getting on anyones case about that fight scene as a bad way to do things. We don't want to control your characters. But when something like that happens we have to act accordingly. But it is good for the RP to do different things. Just don't be suprised if you get in trouble for something you might normally get in trouble for. Don't leave everything to me and drstrangelove to do anything cool. I actually loved the scene with everyone trying to save him etc... just my character would be royally pissed if people started dieing left and right... 8)

I will post something here later tonight or tomorrow... I just kinda took a tumble down the stairs in my house so Im a little fuzzy.. 8/

Weasel woke up that morning he looked at his footlocker and saw a metal pole. I must've been really high last night, could've sworn I found an ak. Weasel tried to remember what happened, he remembered finding Madison's picture, setting the detonation packs, and finding his bag of weed, thats all he remembered. "AH damnit!"

i feel like my jokes are misunderstood, the tripwire was placed, the picture was found, the weed was found, Weasel was high and attacked a power generator...

Sergeant Morgan woke-up as the rest of the squad, and trenchs gathered in the chow huts along the trench line to grab some crummy old front line, "Grunt Food", the officer's took their more appatising meal to their bunks, as the squad and the rest ate at the small crowded tables. The squad sat together, "Gunny" and Morgan sat next to eachother, while the rest of the squad sat along the rest of the small table, the table was crowded with plates and glasses of "Grunt Food", if anyone that was in the middle tried to move, it would disorrient the rest of the table. Morgan looked at the squad questioning their abilities to NOT get killed, like Roland had, "If any of you act out as roland did, by leaving the trench, I'll have you shot for desertion!", morgan returned to his "food"...

Grendel didn't know who Roland was, but he sounded like some fool who had disobeyed direct orders. Wallus was not one for disobeying orders. He had seen a friend of his killed for refusing to hold back in a small scale battle. Grendel was not going to join him. He did as he was told, and that was the only reason he had attained the rank of Corporal. He planned to make it to Sergeant before the Battle of Anchorage was over. As the others ate, Grendel disassembled and polished his shotgun, checking for dust and grime clogged in the barrel, or a dislodged piece of metal.

"Sir, when do you think we will be out there fighting again?" Stevens asked the questions cautiously, as if any word might set the sergeant off. He imagined the sergeant saying 'Don't worry, I don't bite' then taking a mouthful out of Weasel's head for some ridiculous comment. Random thoughts to keep a man happy. "I never did take that CO's head off sir. Do you think that would be too much to ask for, for my 25th birthday? Or what about getting to blow out 25 enemies guts with Corporal Grendal's shotgun, sir?" He looked down the length of the table at the corporal with a smile on his face. What better way to spend a birthday than out on the field?

Grendel didn't smile. He continued cleaning his shotgun as Stevens got a sort of dejected look on his face.
"You never did tell me what's the deal with that coin, Stevens."

"Then its all good sir, I got my cheek shot apart and my ear almost clean off!" Weasel laughed and ate the "food" in front of him, better'n Maddie's cookin at least, shhhhh

Luke looked at the others as they scarfed down their chow. He remembered the firefight, he remembered shooting the reds. He actually got one, but he didn't get the feeling that he was expecting. His power armor now had tons of dents, which were left by the Chinese soldiers 5.56 mm bullets. He seemed the only one silent. The only one not talking about the fight. Killing someone didn't make him feel so good, even if it was a Red. He continued eating the food, trying to take the screaming of the Chinese soldier out of his memory.

OCC: Sorry I was a little too busy to post. Just act if I was there the whole time.

Morgan picked at his food as Private Steven's asked a question, "How the hell should I know, its when ever the Red's sound their little bugel's, or if the commander's get a order from the "higher ups", to have us charge", morgan looked up and pushed his plate away as he walked out for a smoke.

The morning was crisp and cold, the winter weind, cut through his winter coat. He looked around, as he tried to light his cigarette, but the wind continued to blow his lighter out, "God d*** it...", morgan tried once more, finally getting the cigarette lit. Morgan walked down the trench listening to the spotter's that had order's to watch the chinese lines, "Damn Chinese red's!", said a spotter looking through his binocular's, "Where are you, you damn red... I'll make you start bleeding red once I find you!", morgan smirked as he walked by the spotter, he took a drag off his cigarette and continued on through the trench line...

"If you were supposed to know, you would have found out by now." Stevens replied to the Corporal harshly. He looked towards Weasel, "I don't trust him Weasel, so you don't tell him yet, got that? Now, I think I'm about done with this slop, see you all later." Stevens stood up and stormed out of the room. A few privates and even a corporal noticed him coming, and scrambled for cover just in case. Not quite as scary as Morgan, but quite possibly Commander Howards on steroids. He walked outside, and leaned against the wall of the building, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. 'Well, that was a first. I've never done THAT before. Roland must be hitting me much harder than I thought' Stevens took a glance down at the golden coin that shone in the glare from the sun, then down at his medal. He felt ashamed for it. Why do I get rewarded when I let a friend die? Somebody else must have noticed because an audible noise that might have been understanding was heard from somewhere to his left. Stevens spun, hand on his holster, expecting to see Grendal, or Weasel. Instead, he saw Morgan standing silently, smoking another cigarette. "Hey, Sarge." He muttered. "Got a spare cig for me?" Morgan tossed one over and walked off to the trenches as Stevens lit it up. For the first time in quite a while, Stevens just sat back and took a nice, long smoke.


(OOC: ALRIGHT!!! POST # 100!!!)