(no subject)
ONE WEEK BITCHES /i am excite
In other news This might be my favourite tumblr
& been listening to Full Metal Jacket's & Battlefield:Vietnam's OSTs. THEY ARE PRETTY AWESOME YO.
In other, other news:
He tries and passes the selection tests for a Specialist team placing with something that resembles flying fucking colors. But he's too unstable. Got too much of a shitty history for any of the current teams to rush in and pick him up.
So he sticks with general infantry, kicking from team to team, before he almost bites it in a pine plantation getting showered wth mortar.
The medic doesn't expect Smile to be alive when she rushes to his side. Barely hanging onto conciousness he watches as the woman's hands do the hurried yet methodical dance of finding out where he's hit. As another grunt comes to help her haul him back to the outpost she leans over his face and says, 'You a lucky sunovabitch'. Her impossibly white smile is the last thing he sees until he wakes up at the wounded station.
He's got a splitting headache and tiny little cuts over his chest, arms, legs and face. Goddamn, Doc was right, Smile is the luckiest son of a bitch here today.
Smile's slipping his webbing back on when they come in.
Tall man with dark smudged eyes. Skinny little man with pinched face. Both look cold.
Smile eyes them warily; the tall guy may be in uniform, but he's wearing it like it's the most inconvienent concession he's made that day. Pinched Face is wearing a fucking silk shirt. Smile doesn't even know where to start with that.
"Corporal Smile?" Tall Guy asks, drawling out Smile's name like its the punchline to a particularly cruel joke.
Smile glances down at his name-stripe, bloodied but still completely fucking legible on his chest.
"Looks like." He concedes, in case the fuckers are a little hard of seeing. Pinched Face, especially, seems to have a hard time seeing past the blood, dried and stiffening the fabric of his cammies.
"How would you like to serve your country?" Pinched Face asks.
Smile - to give himself some credit - does a pretty goddamned attempt to not pull a what-the-ever-loving-fuck? face. And in his defense, Tall Guy's face twitches and for the smallest of moments Smile can see the guy's not overly fond Pinched Face.
"Corporal," Tall Guy speaks, with a quick, sharp look at his partner. "We are here to ask you if you'd like to be helping the war effort in a more, ah, specialised way."
For the record, what happens next is not at all what Smile's expecting.
In other news This might be my favourite tumblr
& been listening to Full Metal Jacket's & Battlefield:Vietnam's OSTs. THEY ARE PRETTY AWESOME YO.
In other, other news:
He tries and passes the selection tests for a Specialist team placing with something that resembles flying fucking colors. But he's too unstable. Got too much of a shitty history for any of the current teams to rush in and pick him up.
So he sticks with general infantry, kicking from team to team, before he almost bites it in a pine plantation getting showered wth mortar.
The medic doesn't expect Smile to be alive when she rushes to his side. Barely hanging onto conciousness he watches as the woman's hands do the hurried yet methodical dance of finding out where he's hit. As another grunt comes to help her haul him back to the outpost she leans over his face and says, 'You a lucky sunovabitch'. Her impossibly white smile is the last thing he sees until he wakes up at the wounded station.
He's got a splitting headache and tiny little cuts over his chest, arms, legs and face. Goddamn, Doc was right, Smile is the luckiest son of a bitch here today.
Smile's slipping his webbing back on when they come in.
Tall man with dark smudged eyes. Skinny little man with pinched face. Both look cold.
Smile eyes them warily; the tall guy may be in uniform, but he's wearing it like it's the most inconvienent concession he's made that day. Pinched Face is wearing a fucking silk shirt. Smile doesn't even know where to start with that.
"Corporal Smile?" Tall Guy asks, drawling out Smile's name like its the punchline to a particularly cruel joke.
Smile glances down at his name-stripe, bloodied but still completely fucking legible on his chest.
"Looks like." He concedes, in case the fuckers are a little hard of seeing. Pinched Face, especially, seems to have a hard time seeing past the blood, dried and stiffening the fabric of his cammies.
"How would you like to serve your country?" Pinched Face asks.
Smile - to give himself some credit - does a pretty goddamned attempt to not pull a what-the-ever-loving-fuck? face. And in his defense, Tall Guy's face twitches and for the smallest of moments Smile can see the guy's not overly fond Pinched Face.
"Corporal," Tall Guy speaks, with a quick, sharp look at his partner. "We are here to ask you if you'd like to be helping the war effort in a more, ah, specialised way."
For the record, what happens next is not at all what Smile's expecting.