Dana
Inactive Member
- RP Date
- YE 44.9
- RP Location
- Uesureyan Fields/Funky City (Nepleslia)
(First Post, please let me know if I messed up anything.)
The neon skyline of Funky City shone in the distance, a stark contrast to the drab solid walls of the large star-port that was quickly receding behind the olive drab bus. Uesureyan Fields had been Wallers home for the last four months, while completing NSMC boot camp and infantry school. Waller stared out the window as the bus crossed over the filthy river that separated the military base from the outskirts of Funky City.
Wallers jeans felt strange after the months of wearing nothing besides his issued uniforms. The red Aethersperm T-shirt seemed to fit tighter than it had, the pectoral muscles on his chest jutting out farther than he had realized. Absent mindedly Waller brushed a stray piece of black hair behind his ear as the bus trundled to a stop.
"Everybody off unless you're going back to the barracks." The driver, a stocky man wearing sergeants stripes, barked from the drivers seat. A handful of other freshly graduated marines stood and quickly disembarked. The sight would be familiar to anyone who has been around a military base. Tattoo Parlors, Strip Clubs, Pawn Shops, and used vehicle sales lots stretched as far as the eye could see.
"First things first, food." Waller thought to himself as he glanced around and saw a diner close by. The neon lights above the building flickered, "Maples Breakfast Palace". Faded pictures in the grungy windows may have once be recognizable as different dishes, but had washed out from exposure to the sun. A small bell rang as Waller pushed open the door. A woman in her late 40s with an empty look in her eyes and a half smoked cigarette dropping from her mouth, glanced up from the table she was absently wiping down.
"Sit where ever you like, I'll be with you in a sec." Her voice was rocky, tired. Her dress had been a light shade of blue once, now faded, food stains evident from too many shifts. She seemed as worn as the paint peeling away from the walls. The shiny sub-gun slung in the small of her back seemed out of place.
Waller slipped into a booth, his back to a wall, able to see the entrances. His revolvers grip pressed into his side, reminding him it was there. A holo-menu appeared above the table as he sat down. Flicking throw the menus he settled on a "Carnivores Omelet". Four eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, and steak with cheese. All topped with a generous amount of country gravy. A side of 3 pancakes, hashbrowns, and a muffin rounded out the meal.
Waller gave his order to the server and waited for his meal. He absent mindedly watched the people passing by the front of the diner. As he did so, a ding rang out from his DataJockey. He pulled the device from his small backpack, checking what the alert had been for.
***
**ATTN: PVT Redhawk, Waller**
NSMC Personnel CMD
Fleet Assignments
You are assigned to 3rd Assault Fleet, 309th Armored Infantry,
Report date: NLT 7 days after receipt of this dispatch
Report to fleet transport service, Uesureyan Fields, Nepleslia
Authorized Cargo: Issued equipment, one personal items container (24 inches by 36 inches by 12 inches).
THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN LOGGED AS RECIEVED.
***
Waller set the dataJockey on the table as his food arrived. It was a sloppy, greasy mess. Perfect. He quickly devoured all of it. He transferred payment from his DataJockey to the table. There were butterflies in his stomach as he stood to leave. He couldn't be sure if it was the food, or anticipation of what was to come. Maybe both. He pushed open the door to the diner, noticing that the sun had fallen completely below the horizon now, leaving the cluttered streets illuminated by neon lights and the occasional yellowed street lamp.
The foul stench of rot, industrial fog, and trash assaulted his nostrils as the wind shifted directions. The roar of motorcycles filled his ears as a group of individuals on motorcycles and hover cycles formed a semi circle around him. A particularly surly individual who hadn't bathed for the last 6 years, judging by the smell, leered out at him from behind the headlight of his cycle.
"We don't wear that color around here....chum." He slurred out, one glove fat finger jutting out in the direction of Wallers red AetherSperm shirt, "Fact, we don't let *Anyone* wear that color here. Why don't you jus take it off and leave it. 'long wiff any cash ya gots. Ya know, as a thank you for our *kind advice*." The fat man smiled, revealing a mouth of rotting and missing teeth.
(Feel free to tack on here)
The neon skyline of Funky City shone in the distance, a stark contrast to the drab solid walls of the large star-port that was quickly receding behind the olive drab bus. Uesureyan Fields had been Wallers home for the last four months, while completing NSMC boot camp and infantry school. Waller stared out the window as the bus crossed over the filthy river that separated the military base from the outskirts of Funky City.
Wallers jeans felt strange after the months of wearing nothing besides his issued uniforms. The red Aethersperm T-shirt seemed to fit tighter than it had, the pectoral muscles on his chest jutting out farther than he had realized. Absent mindedly Waller brushed a stray piece of black hair behind his ear as the bus trundled to a stop.
"Everybody off unless you're going back to the barracks." The driver, a stocky man wearing sergeants stripes, barked from the drivers seat. A handful of other freshly graduated marines stood and quickly disembarked. The sight would be familiar to anyone who has been around a military base. Tattoo Parlors, Strip Clubs, Pawn Shops, and used vehicle sales lots stretched as far as the eye could see.
"First things first, food." Waller thought to himself as he glanced around and saw a diner close by. The neon lights above the building flickered, "Maples Breakfast Palace". Faded pictures in the grungy windows may have once be recognizable as different dishes, but had washed out from exposure to the sun. A small bell rang as Waller pushed open the door. A woman in her late 40s with an empty look in her eyes and a half smoked cigarette dropping from her mouth, glanced up from the table she was absently wiping down.
"Sit where ever you like, I'll be with you in a sec." Her voice was rocky, tired. Her dress had been a light shade of blue once, now faded, food stains evident from too many shifts. She seemed as worn as the paint peeling away from the walls. The shiny sub-gun slung in the small of her back seemed out of place.
Waller slipped into a booth, his back to a wall, able to see the entrances. His revolvers grip pressed into his side, reminding him it was there. A holo-menu appeared above the table as he sat down. Flicking throw the menus he settled on a "Carnivores Omelet". Four eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, and steak with cheese. All topped with a generous amount of country gravy. A side of 3 pancakes, hashbrowns, and a muffin rounded out the meal.
Waller gave his order to the server and waited for his meal. He absent mindedly watched the people passing by the front of the diner. As he did so, a ding rang out from his DataJockey. He pulled the device from his small backpack, checking what the alert had been for.
***
**ATTN: PVT Redhawk, Waller**
NSMC Personnel CMD
Fleet Assignments
You are assigned to 3rd Assault Fleet, 309th Armored Infantry,
Report date: NLT 7 days after receipt of this dispatch
Report to fleet transport service, Uesureyan Fields, Nepleslia
Authorized Cargo: Issued equipment, one personal items container (24 inches by 36 inches by 12 inches).
THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN LOGGED AS RECIEVED.
***
Waller set the dataJockey on the table as his food arrived. It was a sloppy, greasy mess. Perfect. He quickly devoured all of it. He transferred payment from his DataJockey to the table. There were butterflies in his stomach as he stood to leave. He couldn't be sure if it was the food, or anticipation of what was to come. Maybe both. He pushed open the door to the diner, noticing that the sun had fallen completely below the horizon now, leaving the cluttered streets illuminated by neon lights and the occasional yellowed street lamp.
The foul stench of rot, industrial fog, and trash assaulted his nostrils as the wind shifted directions. The roar of motorcycles filled his ears as a group of individuals on motorcycles and hover cycles formed a semi circle around him. A particularly surly individual who hadn't bathed for the last 6 years, judging by the smell, leered out at him from behind the headlight of his cycle.
"We don't wear that color around here....chum." He slurred out, one glove fat finger jutting out in the direction of Wallers red AetherSperm shirt, "Fact, we don't let *Anyone* wear that color here. Why don't you jus take it off and leave it. 'long wiff any cash ya gots. Ya know, as a thank you for our *kind advice*." The fat man smiled, revealing a mouth of rotting and missing teeth.
(Feel free to tack on here)