We've all seen the rich t.v. shows or heard the radio programs of daring soldiers blasting through the front lines, taking on enemy fire, and giving up their lives to save fellows comrades. We've had the charred battlegrounds described to us so intimately that we felt as if we could smell the smolders, or feel the warm winds brushing against our dirt caked skin. We've all heard the stories....about war, we've all been told time an time again in our history books that war is a repetitive scenario in human history...History breeds heroes, those who live to tell the truth and the villains, those who died at the hands of the heroes.
So, I guess in theory...what is true is always subjective...who's to say in-fact the villains didn't win? But then...I'm side-barring here.
What of those who aren't warriors?
In every war the stories are passed down from person to person, from warrior to warrior and then they are written. In those writings we hear sufferings from those we lost...Take for example World War Two and Hitler's mass extermination of the Jewish people. If we go further back in history we can find even more instances where the peoples of the time are the most affected. Even still we rarely learn their stories. Looking back again to World War Two one such story is Anne Frank, a young girl who wrote down everything about her life in a diary. How often does this happen? How often do we learn about the wounds, the sufferage, the sacrifice, and those taken from us who had no part in the battles that make up our history?
Spoiler: Story
It was a cold, cold era rife with devestation of the European lands and filled with a body count that stacked well nto thed millions. Hatred was thriving against a people and pushing them closer and closer toward the brink of extinction. This was all due to one man's drive to lead the world into what he called..perfection. He rallied an entire fallen people to stand behind him and crush those who opposed their ideals. This was the second of the most catastrohpic wars in our history and it was lead by a man named Adolf Hitler. This man sought power and to do this he created a regime known as the Nazi Party. This group of people sought to relive the glory days of Germany and bring about a newer more perfect Germany. However, to do this they started a war and pushed the wrong people to stand against them while only very few would sit as their allies.
Japan and Germany shook hands one quiet night and in their own areas of the world launched assaults that began a war that would cripple the vast majority of countries. The Japanese pushed into China and Midway cutting off supply lines with relative ease, while Germany was similar to a tidal wave washing over Europe. The Nazi's hit hard and fast and when armies opposed them, they in turn were cut down like weeds in a field. As Hitler's infuelence spread, his ability to lockdown entire countires with soldiers and armored division became more and more of a pressing matter. Still, he never slowed, not even when he reached Red territory and threatened Joseph Stalin.
Those threats, inevitably became real as the Nazi blanket began drenching the white capped hills that were Russia in red. It was beautiful in its irony, the Red country housing one of the most viscous armies, The Red Army, now was painted in a sea of crimson. Who'd have thought the meaning of the phrase would change so much?
In its scene, it was as if one wave was crashing against the other battling for its supremacy, though one began to waver in its resolve being pushed back all the to its breaking point. But when a wave a people has nothing left to give and their final stand is all or nothing..their power grows immensely. Where the Nazi's had pushed and pushed the Russian people, those same people had been biding their time..waiting for the harsh winter to freeze the wave of enemies washing toward them. The Red Army stood at Moscow and bathed their home in the blood of their enemies.
This was the final mistake Hitler made, amongst a few others. The Reds marched forward through the winter, fighting all the way to their boarders and flying their flag high and proud when they crossed into the green grasses of Europe burning everything in their path with only one stopping point in mind. Germany, the Reichstag.
Of course, when we tell the story of Russia, let us not forget The United States fighting Germany on the beaches and pushing in alongside the Red Army as well as island hopping deep in the salty Pacific. While Russia was rallying against the Nazi Regime The United States had broken its silence and launched a full scale assault on the Imperial Japanese Army as well as lending support on the beaches of Normandy. What we do know is that The United States came in with such power that our stories tell us of their glory. Its strange the amount of stories being told of the young American soldiers and yet there are no excerpts of glory about the Russians or those who resisted the German forces.
As Russia pounded away at Germany and met in a pronged assault on the capital with The United States, Hitler went into hiding, and ultimately was felled in defeat. While the war ended in Germany it was not over.
Japan was still holding out in Midway but not well. The United States had beaten them down so hard that the battles had all but ceased, even then Japan refused the terms of surrender.That simple refusal lead to a day that changed the course of history. August 6th, 1945. The United States showed its hand in the most miraculous of ways, with absolute devastation. The Manhattan Project, a project that had been kept a secret had its first unveiling when the trigger was pulled against Hiroshima. On that day, people turned to dust, fires raged, and shadows were burned into the ground, the destruction of the Nuclear Bomb was clear and present for the world to see. Japan...reeling in fear, still refused and three days later Nagasaki met the same fate as Hiroshima. The victor of this war, became known as The United States. Not entirely because it was they who singlehandedly fought the Axis powers, infact that was untrue. What entitled them was the might the victor's had brought to the table..and the fear that they had bred.
Spoiler: Post World War
The cold, cold era quickly became an embrace of winter's grasp that seemed..unshakable however, highly unstable. The Allies victory of The Axis had left Europe in shambles,more specifically Germany, as well as the Imperialist Japan. That wasn't really much of an issue, the main focus was on the fact that The United States and Russia had seemingly recoiled back into a political position of Isolationism. If anything, the world was concerned that the two victors seemed to be at a standoff, staring each other down and daring the other to move. At first, it wasn't considered much of an issue until the world began realizing that both US and Russian troops had been deployed in several different parts of the world. In some case, there were even skirmishes that resulted in the death of dozens of soldiers and civilians.
This post World War had the world teetering on the edge, so close to the brink that a metaphorical clock had been designed to keep a very close watch on the stated of the world. In the end it became a physical clock that counted down to show how close the world was to absolute desturction. Troop deployments over several years of intense relations became more and more frequent, so much so, that the President of the United States felt safer being hidden beneath the ground.
A speech was directed to the American people by President Kennedy when it was announced the Russians had actively moved into waters of The Gulf of Mexico. The directive was that it was highly likely that war would soon break out and that the possibility of troops invading United States soil was growing ever more likely. It wasn't long after that tension boiled to an all time high and turned into what became known as The Cuban Missle Crisis. The year was 1962, danger was imminent and any response that happened.. They don't think it would have prevented what came early the following you.
I imagine you've been told one hundered or so times that Russia invaded The United States in your stories...well, in ours Kennedy was the one who pulled the trigger. Russian troops moved into a deployment pattern and before any warning was sent the President called in a missile strike followed by several naval ships of Marines wading through the ocean. Noone expected Russian rresponse to be so absolute and immediate.
The state of the world was poor, noone except the United States and Russia had the capcity to wage a long winded war. Areas of the world were snatched away from governments for their resources, whether it was China, Japan, Great Britian, Germany, Africa...one of the two super powers established military control and took a vice grip on their territories
Spoiler: Status Quo
For roughly the past several years(3) there has been a lock down in place along the Western most seaboard of the United States. The Russian Regime and its acting Premier, Nikolai Demetriove had launched their initial assault the on the United States mainland. It started with bombardment of the coast, in particular the main cities of California, Oregon, and Washington. While not a substantial blow in resources it did have the American home defense in steady retreat. The Russians had managed to stop any kind of counter attack with constant aggression and had timed it perfectly, considering that the major parts of the American fleet had only recently set course for alternative destinations. This meant, that the majority of any naval defenses had been deployed elsewhere. While the United States did attempt air strike coming out of the west and the midlands, Russia had little to know problem repelling them. The sheer number of Russian vessels lingering out in the Pacific had proved a formidable and somewhat untouchable force. The initial strike lasted several days before the Russian armies finally made landfall and subsequently began exterminating large groups of civilians. This wasn't unheard of, infact the tactic was used by Russian enforcement groups to establish control over the general population. They didn't bother trying to disarm the peoples of the US so much as instill the fear of what may happen.
Spoiler: The Burning of Elblag.
In past attacks on US controlled soil, Russians would follow their assaults with extermination protocols, which would spur the people in one of two ways, fear or resistance. The might of the Reds was enough to quell any resistance that had shown its head so far. There was a story out of Europe, after its annexation into the United States to establish a foothold in the vicinity of Russia, The Reds began taking cities left and right to form a wall around their mainland which ultimately lead to Europe becoming a fierce battleground. One of those cities came out of Poland.
Elblag..the extermination of this city has been embedded like a memory to those who hear its stories. When the Russian initially pushed beyond the borders of The Soviet Union and began commandeering cities and annexing them into Russian territory, American armies did not fight for those cities that provided no essential value. Elblag was on of those cities. However, follow World War II the Polish had a distaste for Russian, and thus began retaliating. At first, Russia was lenient. Following an initial extermination they warned the Polish resistance to stand down and even after the attacks from the resistance increased Russia only warned them. Several weeks into the occupation Russian officials issued this message along with a broadcast to all T.V networks. Obviously this was back when broadcasting companies still existed, atleast in more than just radio form.
First, Russians marched through the streets enforcing a curfew that took place about midday. Anyone who didn't comply was pulled to the center of the street and executed over opened manholes. It didn't matter if it was women, men, elderly, or children, or even those who couldn't necessarily comprehend. Russia executed them and tossed their bodies into the sewers. The sewers of Elblag were well known to be a hide out of the resistance, and thus Russia sent its message.
Later, on that day, Russian troops began following normal protocol and checked all doors to lock the civilians inside until curfew ended. They would rap on the doors with their knuckles and to let the inhabitants know they would be passed over for reprimand. On this day, Russian troops lingered infront of the homes for several hours while the entire town was checked. The broadcast still was streaming live when they began dumping gasoline onto the homes and setting them aflame. A message played over the sirens. "Жителей до Эльблонга ... по приказу Царя..у вас отказываются от вашего права на жизнь."
(Inhabitants of Elblag...Under the orders of the Tsar..you have relinquished your right to live.)
The homes, primarily made of wood, were consumed in minutes by the fires raging through the town, while Russian soldiers held their ground near the doors. Their faces did not forgo their rigid expressions to show any sort of emotions. Even as the people screamed and what was assumed to be begging for mercy, the soldiers did not move. In some places, people would break through their windows and crash into the snow covered grounds, rolling frantically, trying hard to put out the flames. They were shot, non lethal so as they would suffer in fate of burning alive. Those who suffocated or died to falling woods..they were lucky.
The day passed and slowly the flames died to the cold air and the lack of fuel to keep them going. it was then the Russian troops laid down their weapons and knelt before the Russian flag. "Для России!" (For Russia!)
The manholes around them began erupting from the ground while the roads in some places cracked. Russian troops had managed to place a series of explosives within the sewers that tore the town into nothing. They didn't care for resistance response, they didn't intend to take them as prisoners of war, they simply exterminated them without thought..The broadcast ended with the symbol worn by the Red Flag.
Russians forced submittance through stories and fear, anyone who refused to submit met a similar fate to those of the ruined polish city Elblag. Sad to say, that the story is only one of many. The West Coast fell to Russia allowing them to gain a massive foothold in the United States. The Home Defense was not willing to be pushed back any further and set up a defensive line that allowed them to hold back Russian forces over the vast majority of the United States, however this meant giving up on the three captures states for the time being.
President Bartholomew Madison issued a statement to the United States: Good people of America, we are in mourning. Not for ourselves, but for those who are now being held without consent under the Red Flag now flaying over California, Washington, and Oregon. My heart goes out to those and to those with families held behind the "Red Line". I, your President, along with my cabinet have issued a recall of troops from territories close by to assault the Russian fleet that has nestled in American waters. Hang in their America, we'll not abandon you.
Welcome to The Red Line
Bound behind the Red Line, many civilians did as they were told, ate only when given rations, drank only when the guards allowed them water.. They were worked long hours and were paid nothing. This was all in exchange for Russia allowing them to live within their borders, much like a tax through labor. Russian enforcers kept the civilians in line and arrested anyone who was even considered a mild threat.
Thus far? twelve had been subject to arrest and imprisonment under Russian rule. There had also been several executions since the first extermination. There was hope that America would break through but it didn't seem to be coming anytime soon. The fact was that it could be months, years, or never. There were a select few out there in the Red Line who had given themselves openly to Russian rule and become subjects of the Red Flag. These families supported Russian rule more to save theiur own skin from working in the yards and paying "tribute" to the soldiers.
When the Red Line rose, three states fell in line, although California tended to be the least submissive. Not as a whole, but given the size of the state in a few places there were uprisings taking place and actually holding steadfast in military facilities, outside of cities,. hidden within, or even underground much like in Elblag. The problem for the Russians was that destroying California as a whole would like agitate the fault lines and cause so much devastation that the foothold would likely be lost. So they were limited to just foot soldiers, and careful deployment of missile and airstrikes. This gave some room for maneuverability for the resistances.
There of course was a rumor going around that the resistance had been evacuating people out of the cities. Though many felt it was just another false hope or even a plot by the Russian armies to smoke out the resistance. Those who were found out to be searching for the resistance were usually tortured then executed or rather...never heard from again.
A letter:
Dear to whom it may concern:
I am a man inside The Red Line, my name is not important and if I were to give it I would be putting a great many lives in danger..so you'll just have to trust these hastily scrawled letters. I have been to the Red's jailhouses, I have overheard their plans for the future of this Red Line. The resistances have pushed the Russians far to hard in their attempt to free us, before I continue please understand that I do not blame the resistance, The Red army has more boats coming from the Pacific filled with more enforcers that have been sent to pacify those who resist and ultimately to "purify" the Red Line. This letter is being sent with many others at the risk of my own life...but please head these words...The people of the Red Line are going to be the subject of another Holocaust....please..if you are reading this, grab your families, tell your neighbors, risk death for your fellow man...because the Reds are coming and they will kill us all...please...if you're reading this...drop everything and Run.
By nightfall we burn away the wax and with one light...we guide the way..
Spoiler: Need to knows
1. The map above is color codes to terrirtory
Black- United States
Red- Russia
Brown- Contested
2. You are not a soldier of any kind.
Exceptions:
You may be a Cop, or have a history of hunting, however I will be harsher with your bio
You may be elderly and be a combat vet, however, you're a senior citizen.
3. There is no age restriction on character creation
4. You're likely highly likely American and will neeed a damn good reason to be anything else.
5. This RP is brutal so it will be important to stay within the guidelines of RPA
6. We will all be starting in California, all in the same general area (First post will elaborate)
Spoiler: Notable Characters
1. President of the United States: Bartholomew Jameson
2. Current Premier of Russia: Nikolai Demitriove
3. European Armed Defense General: Codename- Abel
4. Resistance leader: ?
Spoiler: Character Sheet
Keep in mind your CS is established on the premise of characters lacking prior relationships unless otherwise noted. At most some may have shared passing glances or passed each other at work. If you have any prior relationships it is up to you as the rper, not the gm, to establish them in your bio for references.
Name:
Age:
Appearance: (Written or picture, avoid stock photos and anime or cartoons)
Background: Should include a brief character history with relationships pertaining to other characters, if previously established, families or lack there of, work history, or general interactions with Russian in the red line.
Personal History: This history is more specific to your characters thoughts and out look. Include personality and view of the current situation.
Notes on character: This sections to include anything noticeable about your character to other players. Such as obvious mental disability, physical disability, or/and general strengths and weaknesses of your character
What was the Need to Know number 2?
-:RULES:-
1. As I said before this RP is brutal. That means death of children, blood, torture, racism, etc.
2. You are to follow all RPA guidelines as well as my own
3. While racism can be employed use of racist words should be avoided and instead described
4. If a child dies it is important that you do not go over board and eviscerate the kid.
5. While torture will happen, children are not to be tortured. However, threats of torture and implications are fine
Accepted Characters:
Anti-Hero
Name: Jack L. Dewitt
Age: 34
Appearance: Jack is a tall man, burly in his build, maybe a bit of hair on his chest and wrinkles in his hands, and a bit on the intimidating side. In a bar, you'd likely think 'I'm not fucking with him tonight.' Jack sports a messy kind of do and what you might call a survivalists beard, unkempt and maybe a little length. All in all not necessarily a bad looking man, but definitely falls into the category of 'not everyone's type.' The little details go as far as to mention a few scars on his face and arms, for various different reasons, but if you were really going to describe the man you'd start with his eyes. Have you ever seen a cold, dead face with wrinkles like canyons all centering around drooping lids and following a path down to a frown that only when unsettled show the tips of his teeth? Yet, here you find yourself staring into his eyes. Deep, harsh, full of...something. A lack of life? Pain? Its hard to say, but the intensity is...something.
Background: The Red Line....
I was just a visitor you know? I came here for a vacation with my family...well it was less than a twenty-hour period before we saw the boats on the horizon. The little lad I'd had with me at the time, my son I mean..He smiled, yelped even at the happiness to see the American troops returning home. His old brother was among them.
My God..
Don and Sam, how long has it been boys? The Russians came and I feel like it was yesterday, but then I think of the time I've missed and it feels like ages have passed me by and left me for dead. Some nights, I feel that it would just be easier to down a bottle of whiskey grab my gun stick the barrel down my throat and unload the clip. To descriptive? You were to young to realize Sam just how bad things were. You saw the ships and when they fired on us, what did you think? What were you expecting to happen after? What did you feel?
I remember seeing them, my first thought was 'the boys are back' I wasn't sure if Don was there, but I'd hope...as they got closer...I noticed something off and then..then I saw their flags and heard the rumble of a cannon shot in the distance.
There was a rattle and the ground shook...sand and dirt..rubble it all kicked into the air and people were in shock..we ran...fast..I fell, twisting my ankle I told you to run..a man grabbed you..I tried to follow....then...then...I don't..you were gone. You had your hand reached out for me, fearing for me..crying, then..among the screaming at the yelling..There was a moment of clarity and I could hear you, it ended so suddenly, so quickly.
You, my son, were gone.
Somehow, during the day the bombs hit us..I survived and I struggled. But, it didn't matter who we lost The Russians pushed in and exterminated so many people, I was almost glad your mother wasn't alive, some of the things they did to women before the executed them...My god..it was..heinous.
-sigh-
They put us in works camps, the mill workers, the oil workers, steel workers...all of them in one area. The scientists, the doctors, those that could offer repairs ya know? They all got moved to another area, I don't know what happened to them after that but I remember seeing a couple of white coats not long ago in the oil fields.
Personal History:
What you see is what you get. Like so many, he's a person with different outlooks from the next guy and the next. But he's to the point. First and foremost you'll know what you get with him and where you stand. He doesn't approve of lying in anyway actually. You lie to a man, you're basically his enemy. Hell politicians were liars and like this is why events happened the way the did. Noone in their right mind would actively pursue war yet...people..innocents die because...power?
The way things looked he was glad to some extent he was useful and at the same time he..didn't want to be useful anymore and would actively fumble over his tools...'Maybe they'll just put a bullet in me..' He'd think to himself alot about that...was Don still alive even? Same was gone Liz, his wife had passed years before.
Did it matter? He'd sigh and continue working..sleep alone..hell..find the right girl and he might spend some time with her, but everything is fleeting..the only constant is what's already passed.
Notes on character:
One blind eye. (Left)
No discernible mental disability
General strengths are applied to his job. He's strong, fit, and can endure long hours without sleep or food.
Last edited by Anti-Hero; 12-12-2015 at 01:39 AM.
What is a King without his pride? If you're looking for answers come find them in my first RP since my return to RPA!~ Lion Heart OOC Lion Heart IC War on High Interest Check
Got a discord? Hit me up via a PM we can do an info exchange!
Good good, I'm writing a CS now so everyone has a sample.
What is a King without his pride? If you're looking for answers come find them in my first RP since my return to RPA!~ Lion Heart OOC Lion Heart IC War on High Interest Check
Got a discord? Hit me up via a PM we can do an info exchange!
I think this is the most unique, the most thought out RP I have ever seen in the history of ever. Look at that story. I can already tell this is going to be successful as a roleplay. If you ever need help advertising this roleplay, I'm always here. The Roleplay of the Week would be a suiting place for this roleplay. 10/10 recommend you send in a submission.
Cool cool, multiple interested right ofr the bat.
JEvan, Wobbles, Megilwen
Ya'll take your time, we'll give it some days well before it starts up.
What is a King without his pride? If you're looking for answers come find them in my first RP since my return to RPA!~ Lion Heart OOC Lion Heart IC War on High Interest Check
Got a discord? Hit me up via a PM we can do an info exchange!
Name: Lucky Stratton Age: 17 Appearance:one, two, three. He doesn't stand too tall -- 5'7", with no sign of growing taller. Although naturally a muscular build, he shows signs of emaciation and feebleness. However, his eyes are still bright, and won't lose their sparkle any time soon.
Background: Holy shit.. holy shit. It's happening, isn't it? I remember when I first watched the reports on the news. The hospital TV was small an' staticy, an'.. an' I only saw like five minutes of the report before th' nurse came in an' turned it off, cryin' an' doing the catholic heart crossin thing an' shit. I remember askin' her to turn it back on, an' sitting up in bed. She just.. she just shook her head an' pushed me back against the pillows. Kissed my forehead. Told me it would all be okay.
Damn, she was lying. She fucking lied... I bet they killed her. Y'know, I bet they killed a lot of people at the hospital. It was the Walnut Creek hospital. Real small. Built in the fifties or something, all wood an' shit. Everyone was a local or a volunteer. I was there for a few weeks before my seventh chemo treatment. The clinic didn't wanna keep me for that long, s'they sent me back to a local hospital.
D'you know, I never saw my parents again. They'd visited me the day before. Huh, fucking hippies. I had to chip in to my own chemo fund. All they ever did was drink fucking booze an' smoke pot. Don't think they really realized they had me, y'know? Mom was so stoned all the time, she treated me like a college buddy or something. Dad hardly spoke, an' I was fucking lucky Sarah paid me some money to mow her lawn an' shit. Oh, Sarah's my neighbor. Real old, like dinosaur old. Never could have kids, kind of adopted me. She was like a mom, 'r a grandma. I think she loved me.
Shit... she's dead, isn't she? ––– Hell.. she was all I ever had.
Anyway.. fuck, man, there's not much more for me to tell you. I left the hospital that night. Ripped that medical crap out of me an' climbed out the window, got as fucking far as I could. Too bad I ran towards the beach, though. They caught me right away. I didn't stand a chance, y'know? I dunno. This whole thing is fucked up. I don't have that long t'live, anyway, though. Hell, I kinda hope I get a bullet before fucking cancer gets me.
Personal History: Lucky is decidedly unlucky. He's certain that he'll be dead before the year is out, yet his self preservation instincts are still strong, and overrule whatever pessimism he's decided to externalize. He supports the resistance, but really, all he wants is to get back to mainland America, and hope to live out his short days in some sort of peace.
He looks on things like they're a direct irony to his name. He's a bad luck charm, and treats himself like one. He values others above himself, and is self destructive as hell.
He's weak, but smart. Don't expect him to do any heavy lifting. He bruises easy, bleeds easy, cries easy.
Notes on character: Has malignant cancer. Slight paranoia and depression.
What was the Need to Know number 2? No military/ex-military characters.
I had been at the hospital the day the armies came. The day the world ended.
I'd never been one for watching the news, it was always too depressing. War, war, war. I thought it would never affect me. Thought I was safe here in the US. Russia would never attack us. They'd be insane and foolish to do so. It was a normal shift. The occasional chaotic moment, but really that was normal in a hospital in one of the metropolitan areas. For fucks sake, people came in with the dumbest injuries, where you just want to look at them and say, "Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to put your dick in there?!". But that wasn't professional, so you did your job and tried not to laugh. I digress however.
I had been in the hospital's ER about to call back the next patient, not all patients in the ER were true emergencies, when the building shook. Being in LA quakes weren't abnormal and happened regularly enough. People were used to them, knew how to respond, and soon enough everything was calm again. Then there was another shake of the building and a third and a fourth. I thought they were after shocks. Then someone started screaming and pointing at the TV. Looking at it, I still remember to this day what the headlines read. "Media Alert: Russian planes bombing the California Coast. Seek shelter immediately."
I knew I didn't have much time before we'd have to prepare but grabbing my cellphone, I ran into one of storage rooms and tried to call my younger sister. She had just started her freshman year down at San Bernardino Valley College. I hadn't gotten a good look at the map to see where the bombings were, but I had to try and contact her. She'd lived with me for the llast 5 years. Since our mother had died in a car crash. Immediately all there was a busy signal. Either the lines were down or so many people were doing the same thing I was. Settling with sending a text, I slipped my phone in my pocket before going back out of the storage room to focus on the text at hand.
Well that was fine for everyone else, but as soon as the bombing started, the hospital went into emergency mode. We had to prep for the injured. We knew there'd be injured. We weren't ready for the sheer numbers of the bleeding and dying. No hospital was. Never in a hundred years did we ever expect to deal with a disaster of this magnitude. People stumbling through the door. Children crying for dead parents. Parents carrying in children who were missing half their bodies, screaming at us to do something. Screaming for help. Screaming. Screaming. Screaming. I can still hear the Screams.
I lost track of how many shifts I pulled in a row. Everyone was called in and no one left. We took turns getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep before going again. Doing the best we could. Supplies ran out by the end of the first night of bombing and we prayed that would be it. It would be two full days of death. Every few hours I checked my phone, hoping to hear from Serah. But there was no call...no text. Nothing. Then on the third day the invasion forces came. They were met with such despair and anguish. That no one fought back, those who did, were shot in the streets.
I remember the squad that came to the hospital. All my fellow doctor's and nurses were already exhausted, but the Chief of Medicine met with the squad's leader. I don't remember what was said, but the Russian didn't like it clearly as he pulled his pistol and shot the chief of Medicine directly through the skull. I was close enough to feel the blood hit my skin and scrubs...not that it mattered after the last few nights. Then started the executions. Every bed in our hospital was full. Every gurney. We even had the injured on extra mattresses on the floors. We'd taken as many as we could. The soldiers split and started down the hallways, gunshots and screaming following in their wake as they culled out those they deemed useless because of their injuries. The rest of us they collected in the front courtyard. By the end, it was mostly the staff left. There had been some families there with their injured loved ones who were there too, but every single person who'd been injured or sick was dead. Everyone we'd spent the last 48 hours saving now gone.
Looking around it was obvious that everyone was in shock. It was near silent as we waited, gunshots echoing around us as similar searches were done in other areas. Then we were split up, first male and female. Then with some other designation or requirement. The Russian voices of the officers arguing with one another as they pointed and pushed different people into different directions until they were satisfied. Then we were loaded onto trucks and moved to our new homes. Suburban blocks, converted into would-be-prison barracks. There were 10 to 15 people to a house on the street. I noticed patterns. Female scientists, nurses, doctors, physicists, engineers, etc. The quote "cream of the crop". We were all housed on the same block and who knows how many other blocks like it.
We still worked at the hospital, treating the minor injuries of those who worked in the camps outside the city. It was only ever minor injuries. I suspected that those who ended up more grievously injured didn't get health care. But always we were returned and counted each night. Prisoners. Everyday though I asked the Russians in charge of my camp about Serah. Hoping for an answer, but never knowing if I'd get one.
For nearly the last three years, this had been my life. One evening after arriving home, a Russian pulled me aside and in his semi broken English, he managed to get across the message that he knew were Serah was and that I needed to come with him. Trusting it to be true and having given up hope a long time ago, I followed. However instead of leading me to my sister he led me into a backroom, where I was nearly beaten into submission before he could use me as he wished. If it could even be called luck, he was unable to finish before the door was broken down. A gun fired and then the dead body of the soldier fell against me, blood dripping from the bullet hole in the back of his skull.
Someone pushed the body off and helped me to my feet wrapping me in a long coat before loading me into a car that took me back to the hospital. I was treated and released and brought back to camp, shaken up but not harmed in the long run. A few weeks later, I was on shift at the hospital when a bus load of women were brought to the hospital. I'd heard rumors that the Russians kept women to use somewhere and that they were occasionally brought in after they had dealt with some particularly rough handling, but I'd never been at the hospital when they were brought in.
I was called to the surgery ward to assist with one young woman who was particularly injured. Only to be shocked to see Serah's face, staring out at me amidst bruises and cuts that littered her face. I don't remember much after seeing her face, it was a blur. I just remembered that Serah didn't make it. I know I tried everything to save her. Yet she didn't survive the injuries that they'd given her. Her blood stained my hands. I couldn't save her.
Personal History:
Part of a small but happy family in LA. Was an only child for years until she was about eight when her parents had another daughter. Lesleigh loved her little sister and instantly became fiercely protective of her. When she was eighteen and her sister was ten. The family was in a car accident the night of Lesligh's high school graduation. She and her sister survived, their parents didn't. Lesleigh's took over the responsibility of being Serah's legal guardian. It was difficult. Trying to juggle the young girl, a job, and taking classes, but somehow she managed it. Getting her nursing certificate after six years and watching Serah graduate with honors. Serah had elected to stay close to home and go to a smaller college for two years before transferring to one of the state colleges.
Notes on character:
What was the Need to Know number 2?
You are not a soldier of any kind.
This looks interesting, would it be possible play a character that was born in the US to Russian parents that immigrated to the US (most likely illegally)? She wouldn't be loyal to the Red Line, prolly in her late teens. No doubt hiding that she is of Russian descent.
Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away
Cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through
the barricades and reaching for the sun.
We Are Warriors
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