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 Posted: Sun Sep 19, 2010 3:19 pm
Plot A WWI roleplay. A British soldier, the solo survivor of his squad, is sent to a campaign hospital because of a gas attack, which made him temporarily blind. The nurse who is tending to him grow closer to him, even if she's taught not to become closer to soldiers. And the soldier respond her feelings. But what will happen, when he's healed and have to return to the front? Profiles нєя "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should." What you see is what you get...  ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ Hello, there. The name I was given at birth is Adele David, but most people tend to call me by my name, or Delly. I am 20 years old. This is how people see me: sweet, kind, loving, tender, emotional, passionate. I don't like people prying into my life, but I guess you have to know my life story: I was born into a normal, middle-class family. We ran a business in Paris. I've lived a normal life with both parents and an older brother, Mason, who is older than me by three years, running the business, going to school, and even getting medical training. However, La Guerre du Droit caused turmoil in my country and France was being torn apart. My brother was sent to fight and defend, while I was sent to a hospital near Somme to be a nurse and tend to the injured soldiers that came raw from battle. ☆═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═☆ If you want to get on my good side...
⇒ Love/Romance
⇒ Peace
⇒ Family and Friends
⇒ Music (Especially singing)
⇒ Helping others Please, keep these away...
➔ War
➔ Hatred
➔ The Cold
➔ Darkness
➔ Spiders вє вяανє, ѕтяσиg ѕσℓ∂ιєяѕ... нιм Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? What you see is what you get...  ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ Hello, there. The name I was given at birth is Adrian Smith, but most people tend to call me Adrian or Adri.. I am 21 years old. This is how people see me: gentle, loyal, friendly, loving, though a little scarred by the War. I don't like people prying into my life, but I guess you have to know my life story: I've grew up in a medium-class family in England. I had a good childhood and teenage years. But when I become 18, I joined the British Army. What was strange, since I wasn't obliged to. I joined because I aways found the Army good. But when the Great War started, I was sent to France to help the French fighting off the German. That was a year ago. The year now is 1915.. ☆═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═☆ If you want to get on my good side...
⇒ The night
⇒ Cold weather
⇒ Chocolate
⇒ Fish with fries
⇒ Love Please, keep these away...
➔ This War
➔ Rats
➔ Gas attacks
➔ Being alone
➔ Hot weather вє вяανє, ѕтяσиg ѕσℓ∂ιєяѕ...
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Posted: Mon Sep 20, 2010 8:00 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? The year was 1915. The Great War had been raging on Europe for a year, impressing people with the number of soldiers killed. And the horrors kept growing, as the war kept growing longer, darker and violent. There were many ways to kill a soldier. A rifle shot, machinegun burst, fire from a flamethrower, the feared artillary, diseases, grenades, mines... But probably the most terrible one was the use of gas. Artillary shells filled with gas were deployed on enemy trenches. And the German were the first to use it.
The cloth doors of the hospital were flapped open as two soldiers carrying a third one in a litter. The soldier had a cloth over his eyes. The tag that had been attached to his uniform by doctor marked him as victim of a gas attack. He was temporalily blind. He reached for someone, as the soldiers placed him down on a bed. "W-Water... P-Please..." He said, his voice low and raspy, because of the gas attack. He was the lone survivor of his squad, being able to protect himself with a urine-soaked cloth over his mouth and nose. But some of the gas was able to hit his throat and his eyes were damaged too. Though not permanently. But the acid produced by the reaction of water and the gas was making the soldier suffer terrible pains.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 2:54 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."It was another field hospital, near the Somme battlefield. The tent could only house about 1000 casualties at a time, but it filled quickly. Most of the nurses wondered if there was enough space for any more patients to occupy the cots. They hoped not; their job was hard enough as it was. However, another one was carried in by his fellow soldiers.
One nurse, one of the youngest there, was pushed into the hospital. The stench burned her nostrils and made her eyes water. It smelled of blood, medicine, sweat, and infection, with a hint of death. She covered her nose and mouth with a sweaty rag and squinted, glaring at the nurse that had pushed her in. "He's all yours," the stocky nurse hissed in English before leaving the tent. "Oui, madame," the younger, slimmer one replied nervously before weaving her way through the cots. Still squinting, the nurse looked down at the soldier, who had a raggedy cloth covering his eyes. Obviously, he had been blinded by the gas attack he had just suffered. Of course, that was better than dying, as long as his blindness was temporary. She nodded, although the soldier couldn't see her. "Oui, monsieur," she murmured as she picked up a cup from a nearby table. Then she filled it with cool water and placed it in the man's hand. However, he couldn't drink it lying down, so she helped him sit up to drink it. "Small sips, please," she said in English as she kept her hand on the man's sweaty back.
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Posted: Fri Oct 01, 2010 2:46 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? The soldier groaned again in pain, not being able to see because of the acid the gas produced in contact with the water in his eyes. The same reaction happened in his throat, which made his voice raspy. And his throat dry. He heard a female voice murmuring something in French, before a cup was placed in his hand. Then, he was sat up and brought the cup to his throat. He took a small sip, as the girl told him to. But as soon as the water ran down on his throat, he groaned in pain and almost let the cup fall. His other hand went to his throat, holding it lightly. "I-It b-burns!" He complained, obviously in pain.
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Posted: Fri Oct 01, 2010 9:35 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."The nurse looked down at the soldier and grimaced at the sound of his groan. Her eyes never left his face. The poor thing, she thought. He must be in such terrible pain. Still holding him up, she winced as he groaned again. Swiftly grabbing the cup and setting it down on the table beside the cot, she started to search the crowd of soldiers and nurses for someone who wasn't busy and could help her. She wasn't exactly sure what to do to help soothe the burn in his throat, but she was hoping that maybe one of the older, more experienced nurses would know. "Excusez-moi! Excuse me! I need help!" Everywhere she looked, there was either a busy nurse or a soldier in need. There was no way that she could just leave the soldier alone now. One of the senior nurses had already assigned her to this particular patient, so she had to follow through with the commitment. Sighing softly as one nurse called outside to get another for backup, the young woman turned back to the blind soldier. "Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Forgive me. Another nurse will be here in a bit to help. For now, just relax." Her voice was soft and soothing as she spoke, and while she waited for a senior nurse to come, she started to hum a calming tune. Although she wasn't sure if anyone could hear her, she continued to hum anyways. Music always calmed her down, and at this moment, she needed a sense of calm.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 3:26 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? The soldier felt the cup being taken away from his grasp and his other hand searched blindly for the nurse's arm. "P-Please... H-elp m-me..." The soldier groaned painfully. He touched her arm before she left, but he couldn't hold her there. He was feeling so lost, so much in pain... He was blind, his throat, lungs and stomach burned and he was still dazed from all the attack his squad suffered. He was lucky to be alive, he knew that. But how to be glad of that when you were like that? He at least had all his limbs intact, unlike many soldiers around. There were many soldiers missing legs and arms. It was a sad thing. When he heard the nurse's voice again, he reached for her and grabbed her arm, holding on it in a firm but not painful way. "P-Please... D-Don't l-leave... M-Me..." He saidn in his raspy voice, pleading to her. He started hearing someone, probably the nurse, humming a calming tune. That probably would calm him down, if the pain wasn't so much.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 8:08 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."The nurse couldn't just leave the poor soldier. It wasn't right. She felt his firm grip on her arm and decided not to leave. Instead, she pulled up a chair next to his cot and sat with him. "Sir, we will do everything in our power to help you," she replied calmly. "It is my job to serve you, not leave you." Her eyes searched his desperate face. Choosing to let him hold her arm, she continued to hum a bit. A few minutes later, a second nurse came with a bottle of morphine, which was put into a syringe and quickly injected into the soldier's arm. As soon as the other nurse had left, she shuddered slightly, her arm still being held by the soldier. "It's going to be alright, sir. Trust me. Just relax for now and we'll take care of you." She patted his arm with her free hand reassuringly, although when you are blind and in terrible pain, it's hard to be reassured by small gestures like patting an arm, humming, and not leaving. Quickly scanning the tent, she looked around to see if there was anything she could tell the soldier about where they were. Perhaps she could serve as his eyes for the time being until his blindness wore off. Noticing how depressing the sight around her was, she decided to keep quiet for fear of causing the soldier a panic attack. That was the last thing they would need at that moment.
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Posted: Fri Oct 08, 2010 2:01 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? The soldier kept holding on the nurse's arm, holding her there, close to him. She was a ray of hope in the darkness he was, both figurately and literally. He coughed and groaned in pain, but noticed the nurse's arm was lower, so she probably was sitting besides him. It was good to have some company. He just wished he could see who was the one helpong him. When the other nurse came and injected something in him, he flinched a little. He didn't like needles. At all. But the pain suddenly went away and he relaxed. The wonderful painkiller was doing a great job, helping the poor soldier holding up against his pain. When he heard her, he sighed and nodded. "T-Thank you..." He said, his voice still low and raspy. "W-What's... your name?" He asked, with some trouble. He then moved a hand to his throat, still holding her arm. "W-Water... please..." Maybe now, with the painkiller, he could wash the acid down to a place it wouldn't harm him anymore.
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Posted: Fri Oct 08, 2010 8:12 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."The nurse continued to sit silently with him. She wished there was more for her to do to serve him, but obviously there wasn't much she could do at this point but stay with him. As soon as the second nurse injected the morphine into the soldier's arm, she could feel him flinch, and she patted his arm in response. Then, as he started to relax, she began to hum the calming tune again. Smiling a little bit, the nurse replied softly, "You're very welcome, sir. My name is Adele. Adele David. Some people call me Delly. You may call me whatever you wish. What is your name?" Looking over at the cart, she noticed that they had gotten cooler water now, so she quickly left for a few seconds and brought back some fresh, cold water for him. Adele, however, then realized that he still had acid in his throat. "Sir, I don't know how good of an idea this is, because if you send the acid down to your stomach, you will be at risk of being poisoned. You may have some in small sips, but as soon as you start to feel sick and in pain, let me know so we can help you." Reluctantly, she placed the glass in his hand and helped him to sit up, hoping that this attempt would be more fruitful.
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Posted: Fri Oct 08, 2010 8:35 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? The soldier couldn't help but smile a little when he heard the nurse speaking. He wished he could talk more with her, but his throat was too raspy and burning too much to him to be able to speak much. If he survived, he would like to talk with her more. "A-Adele... B-Beautiful... N-Name..." He said, still holding her arm, but not so tightly. "I'm... A-Adrian..." He said, before he suddenly didn't feel her presence with him anymore. He started panicking, but soon she was back and he calmed down again. He held her arm a little more tightly, almost like he was afraid to lose her. He nodded when he heard her, before sitting up with her help and getting the cup. He brought it up to his lips and took small sips. It helped him in a way he never thought water would. It was the best water he'd drank in a long time. But soon he had to put it away. "I... C-can't take... anymore..." He said, his voice much better than before. "Adele... Would you... mind if I called... you Engel? It's... the German word... for Angel... And that's.... what you are... for me right now..." He said, his blinded eyes on her, through the bandages.
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Posted: Fri Oct 08, 2010 9:06 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."Adele smiled as the soldier did. It was nice to see that he was happy, even if he was in pain. "Thank you, sir. Your name is also very nice. I have a friend who has the same name." She felt guilty that she had left him, even for a few seconds, because she could tell that he didn't like not having her around. "Bien, bien, Adrian. I'm here." She reassuringly patted his arm again. After he was done drinking the water, she took the glass from him and set it on the small table beside the cot. Adele blushed slightly as he called her his angel. "Bien sûr, mon ami. Of course." There was a sweet smile spread across her face. Engel. That was a nice nickname to have. It was unique, and so meaningful. She wasn't sure if it fit her all too well, but it was his wish, so she let him. Plus, she wasn't sure how long he would survive with all that acid that was still inside him, so she might as well let him have one wish before death. After a few minutes, another nurse brought some food for the soldier. Although it probably wouldn't be very delectable, she took the food and said a quick, "Merci." Then she reluctantly turned to Adrian. "A nurse has brought you hot food, mon ami. If you don't want any right now, I will leave it here until you do want it. I should warn you, however, that it is not very tasty. Trust me, I've tried it." Grimacing, Adele remembered the horrific taste of the food, but it was a war, so you couldn't really get any delicacies.
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Posted: Sun Oct 10, 2010 9:10 pm
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? Adrian smiled a little when he heard the French girl. She had a young, loving voice. He wished he could see the face of his angel. He could understand a little of French, so he understood some things she said in French. But actually he only knew English and German. "Th-Thank you... Engel..." He whispered, before "looking" at her face as a silence was set upon them. When another nurse brought him foor, he smelled it and heard what his nurse said. And he couldn't help but laugh weakly, having to cough a little after doing so. "E-Engel... N-Nothing... can be worse... than trench... food... Not eating... with mud... and sand is... great." He coughed a little and looked at her, a small smile on his face. "O-Once... We had to eat... a rat stew... Because our su-supplies didn't get... in time... And we couldn't... starve to death." He said, before blindly trying to reach for the plate. "E-Engel... Please... G-Give me the... plate..."
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Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 2:46 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."Adele felt the edges of her mouth pull up into a smile again. This young soldier's smile was obviously contagious because when he smiled, she couldn't help but grin as well. "You're welcome," she replied softly before picking up the plate. With a soft, light laugh, she looked down at Adrian and replied, "You are most likely right. I've heard about trench food, and I've heard that it's supposed to be extremely horrid. But rat stew? Oh, that sounds terrible! I would hate to eat that." She laughed again. Then noticing the soldier was groping out for his food, she put the plate in his lap and handed him a fork. "Just be very careful, mon ami," she warned before letting him take grasp of the fork. She also refilled the cup of water and waited for him to start eating, hoping that it wouldn't make him feel worse than he already felt.
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 8:18 am
Why do we keep fighting? Why do we keep dying? Adrian chuckled weakly when he heard her. "We had to... eat it to not starve to... death. At least we know... the Huns do the same. Once I've seen a... rather funny sight on a German trench... They hung many... rats by their tail on... a wire and wrote on a board: "There is... no lack of meat here." Needless to say, we... laughed." He said, smiling. It was good to keep up the morale, even if he was blind. Who knows? Maybe he could heal pretty fast. He felt a weight being placed on his lap and he nodded, before getting the fork Adele handed him. "Thank... you, Engel..." He said, before starting to slowly eat, forcing the food down his throat. He had to eat.
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Posted: Sun Oct 17, 2010 6:25 pm
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-»
α∂єℓє ∂ανι∂
`•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» `•» »-(¯`v´¯)-» "I believe in love. This war, it breaks my heart. It hurts to know that people don't love, though they really should."Adele nodded, her face still showing how shocked she was. "Of course you had to eat, my friend, I understand that. And I know that it was all you had. I'm just a bit disgusted by the idea. It must have tasted horrible." Upon hearing what the Germans had done, she laughed. "Wow, at least they had a sense of humor, even if they were at war. Most people wouldn't do that because of their horrible attitudes, but at least they were decent enough to keep spirits up... even though I don't truly understand their reasoning behind it." She watched as Adrian ate, sickened a bit by the sight of the food. "It can't be any worse than rats. Then again, the fact that you can't see the food makes your taste sense stronger, so you can probably taste things that I most likely can't. It's quite horrible, yes?" She knew that the answer was yes, it was horrible, but she asked just for the satisfaction of being right.
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