forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

"Give it a second," she giggled, "They'll warm up,"

"Villain," he muttered, but there was a teasing sparkle in his eye.

Edonine leaned and rest the side of her face against his chest. "Do you want to watch the sunset tonight?"

Once again, he wrapped his arms around her. "With you? Of course. Just us, or do you want to bring some of the boys?"

"Just us," she replied softly.

"Sounds perfect," he murmured, before wincing again. "Gah, your hands."

"Youll live," she chuckled. "I'm not–"
The distant sound of gunfire interrupted her, startled her into silence.

(oh shit)

Pierre's eyes widened in alarm. He instinctively grabbed hold of Edonine's arm and pulled her behind a cluster of thicker trees, trying to get a look at what was going on.

Her face went blank. They couldn't really see anything of camp through the trees except for a few sparse glimpses of tent canvas.
Gunfire returned, and a tide of yelling and chaos rose from Pierre's fellow men.
And a glimpse of fleeting red fabric through a cluster of trees.

Pierre swore loudly, heart hammering in his chest. Panicked, he pushed a hand into his hair, inhaling sharply. Calm down. Breathe, he told himself. When he had, he turned to Edonine. "Stay here. I'm going to go help."

"Th-they'll accuse me of abandonment if i don't go with you!" She cried. Any men who fled fighting.. They'd be labeled a coward for the rest of their life–at least until being shot or hanged. Tears started to spring into her eyes, of genuine terror.

He swore again, fear lighting up his eyes. "Then– then come with. Stay right behind me– be careful" And they were off, running through the trees, stopping right at the edge of camp. "I– I didn't bring any weapons."

Sweat drooled down her forehead. "Our tent is in the middle of camp," Edonine gasped. "God!" She cursed, and her breath hitched, seeing a bayonet get thrust through a patriot's stomach.

It all came rushing back to him, the blood, the gore, the brutality of war. He gripped her shoulders tightly. "Edonine, listen to me. We are going to be fine. You are going to be fine. Take a deep breath, and then we need to go in. Dou you trust me?"

A tear slipped from her eyes, she nodded, then wiped it away harshly off her cheek.

He squeezed her shoulders. "Good. I love you." And he was off, slipping between tents, checking that she was following every minute or so.

Her wide eyes were fixated on him, doing what she could to block out the mud puddles black with blood.

Pierre pulled her behind a tent as a gunshot sounded, sinking into the familiar role of a soldier. He raised a finger to his lips, heart pounding as he crept around the side of the tent towards the body of a fallen man, one of their own. He murmured a quick prayer over their body, gut twisting with grief, and slipped the gun from their limp hands. Returning to Edonine, he tossed it to her. "Keep that. I'll find one for myself."

She scrambled to catch it, "Pierre, I don't–" she trembled. Could she really shoot someone? Even if it meant saving herself?

"Hey," he told her softly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's just for self protection. You don't have to attack, but you need to offend. If you need to, bluff. You're going to be alright, I promise."

Edonine could only manage a nod. His voice was sanctuary beyond the chaos of gunfire and screams.

"Alright, off we go." He grabbed her hand and slipped between two tents, leading her around the middle of the camp. When he finally found a gun of his own, he gave her a sad smile, checked the ammo, and looked towards the fray. "I'm going in."

"Be safe," she pleaded, tensing her body to stop shaking. Edonine could swear her vision was going black, but it was just panic.

"I will. You too– I love you." He swallowed, and was gone, leaping straight into the heart of the battle with a heavy heart.

Bullets flew around him, screams shattered the air, and the ground was drenched in blood– so much blood. Pierre caught sight of Louis, fighting like a lion. But what he also saw was the man behind him, aiming to shoot. "Louis!" Sprinting forward, he took aim and shot, striking the man in the leg. Louis whipped around, barely dodging yet another bullet, but the threat was gone before he could be killed.

Edonine raced away from the heat of battle towards the tents. She dove into her and Pierre's.

Jane smiled as she prepared to write her letter to John. She sat down with a paper and thought for a minute before writing her heart to him.

John, my sir.

It is quite peaceful here, but I miss you dearly. Not much has happened, but I want to tell you everything. A man named James stopped by. He told me that he was expecting papers from you, which I gave him after due time. He seems very nice. He said for me to come and look at his artwork, and I accepted the offer. I do love art, John. It is seeing the world in a way someone else sees it. Do not forget that and you will be well.

How are you? I pray that you are in good health and hope you haven't had any problems. Do come home safe. I miss you terribly, John, and your cat does as well. This house isn't the same without you, we both agree. And if I shall make one wish, it would be for your safety and the safety of your fellow soldiers. My heart is with you in all your endeavors.

My regards and all my love,

Jane

In John's response:

My Dearest,
I apologize for the late of this letter, it was inevitable. My occupation requires of it my whole attention.
Yes, Mister James Hawthorne. He is an excellent soldier–it is beyond me as to why the young man hasn't expedited his talents to their full potential. I have full belief he could outrank me if the effort was applied.
As for myself, my dearest, Jane, my heart is weary. The tempest of war erodes at me and I long, with painful earnest, your presence. There is no aspiration in a job lije this, it is thankless. Yet, I know it is righteous.
I have never needed nothing more than you.
Your Obedient Companion,
John André

Pierre turned, a vibrant red coat the first thing his eyes landed on. He stepped to the side just before a bullet hit the fabric of the tent where he'd been standing, raising his own gun.

Edonine cried out as she rushed into the tent– alnost immediately as she did, she was snatched up from behind. The threat of a knife to her throat kepf her quiet.
Not that Pierre could hear her over everything.

(akjshskj not Edonine)

Blood, screamed, gunshots. They filled his ears, filled his line of vision. It was the best he could do not to worry constantly about Edonine– not to mention Cruz, Geoffrey, and Louis– and just fight, keeping an eye out for his comrades.

(should he find Edonine?)