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Most users ever online was 29 on October 1st 2013, 12:09 am


    Requiem of Glass.

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    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1205
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Location : A box in the United States.

    Requiem of Glass.

    Post  Bad John on March 5th 2013, 3:29 am

    Chief felt exposed without his armor. He tugged lightly at the sleeve of his military uniform.

    He had several new medals. Ones they hadn't the time to give him seven years ago.

    War Hero. Purple Hearts. POW Medallion.

    He had spent his entire day walking past people who didn't understand him. He towered above them. Despite an army of men and women who believed in him, none of them knew what it took to be him. But that familiar stare of awe (some jealousy) still followed him.

    He just wanted to be alone, with at least ONE person who didn't give him that look.

    Chief took one errant step off course. One missed tap of his heel. The door beside him in the hall slid open automatically.

    Chief instinctively turned to his right, and stared into the room that was presented to him.

    John B694, better known as Agent Nine, stared awkwardly back at him, a bottle of vodka in his clasped hand. Even with his dark skin, Chief could see the flush across the bridge of his nose and in his cheeks. He could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the room.

    No surprise. Chief knew that Nine wasn't a straight lace soldier. In a lot of ways, he wasn't, and never could be, a true soldier.

    What WAS a surprise was that Vance, another Spartan, was right next to him.

    "...Nine, this was a bad idea." Vance gave Nine a shifty look.

    "RELAAAAX. We're Freelancers. We don't answer to Mista McJarhead here." Nine gave Chief a condescending, mocking grin, and shook the bottle. "As a matter-o-fact, I think he could use a drink hisself."

    Chief scoffed at the notion at first, staring Nine down with a hard, dissatisfied look.

    Nine gave Chief his same, drunken, catlike, casual grin.

    Vance sat uncomfortably, watching the standoff. Something had to break eventually, and this was more tense than the Sangheili-Jiralhanae alliance.

    Chief shut the door behind him, and locked it. He stepped forward, his shoes clopping against the slick floor. With a decisive grinding noise, he pulled up a chair and had a seat.

    Nine poured him a glass. Vance looked the Chief in the eye.

    "Let's see a Spartan II's tolerance. Drink up, pops."

    The older spartan was out of his element. He could count on his hand the amount of times he'd drank.

    But Vance's hostility, and Nine's familiarity, and the feeling of being under scrutiny, made him feel at home.

    Chief lifted the drink Nine had poured him.

    "To absent friends." He echoed words he'd heard his dear friend Linda say.

    "Ah. Good one." Nine smiled, swirling his small shot glass. He downed it in one gulp.

    "...Creed, Lilah, Penny, Victor." Nine rattled off the names, a distinctive slur in his speech.

    Chief locked his gaze on Nine, confused.

    Nine looked back, and gave Chief a somber, light smile. "You were actually THERE when Vic died. He was the Model III in red armor."

    Chief immediately understood.

    Those were Nine's absent friends.

    "Yay. Way to kill the mood, old timer," Vance hissed. He downed his drink.

    Chief held his in hand as he observed Nine, who was already pouring another shot.

    It took him a while to make the connection, but now he remembered.

    When he'd first met Nine, he was eighteen. A boy, who had been badly beaten by a Chieftain. He'd almost lost his eye.

    He'd lost a friend in earnest, that day. If I'd been there sooner, you and your friend would be in one piece.

    "Sorry."

    "Don't be. He'd have probably died with the others anyway." Nine nodded to Chief. "Y'saved my life anyway. That's all anyone could ask of you."

    Nine turned to Vance. "Yer turn, sourpuss. Who've you lost?"

    "Lot of people. Rock stands out."

    "What about Maddy? I never found out what happened to he-"

    "Shut up." Vance growled. "She's dead. Who cares. If she hadn't gone down, I'd be dead, and Colin would still be around, and I know you don't want that piece-o-shit alive."

    Nine lifted his hands defensively as Vance leaned towards him, teeth clenched. "Fair enough."

    Nine raised his eyebrow. He expected Vance to say something else.

    "...I know what you want me to talk about, so fucking drop it, Nine."

    "If you need to talk about it, talk about it." Nine patted Vance on the shoulder. "I liked Dex too, you know."

    Chief leaned forward, interested. He'd read up on every aspect of the Requiem indecent as something to do while off-duty. He knew a UNSC A.I. was missing in action, and that there had been issues with A.I. Criminal reports. Arrests, and executions.

    Dex had been the center of a lot of trouble, and Vance had been along for every step.

    "...He was my friend." Vance crossed his arms. "Got me through a lot, and now he's gone. He did everything he could for me. I guess that's all that matters..."

    Vance looked away.

    Nine looked at Chief.

    "Anything you want to say?"

    "People think I don't care about all the marines that die under my command. All the bodies I've had to step over." Chief shrugged, and took his bitter drink. "Well, I do."

    "...C'mon. Close friends."

    "Were yours close? Penny, and Lilah, and those other boys you mentioned. How close were they?"

    "I met them when we were nine. They died when I was eighteen." Nine balanced his shot glass on the tip of his index finger. "Nine years. They were my brothers and sisters."

    "...They all died in the same year?"

    "Yup. Four of 'em in the same day."

    Send me out...with a bang.

    Chief grunted, and had another drink.

    "...I had to leave a lot of people behind."

    Not one will hesitate, to bring sacrifice and honor to his brothers. For he will lay down his life for those in danger, or be known as a coward.

    "...People who deserved to be buried." Chief took another drink. "I failed them. Let them die, after all the years they spent helping me along."

    Nine had never heard Chief speak more than one sentence at a time. He looked down at his glass, then looked up. Chief's facial expression was haunting.

    His teeth were visibly clenched, as if he was in real pain. He stared off into space as he finished his statement.

    Welcome home, John.

    "I completed my mission, but I failed them."

    "...They were heroes, John." Nine patted Chief on the shoulder. "They gave their lives to help you. Without those people, none of us'd be standin' right now. Thanks to them, we're here, drinking cheap vodka. We may as well take a minute to remember 'em."

    "Eh." Vance shrugged. "I guess."

    Chief shrugged, then nodded. "Thanks."

    Nine smiled, clearly the most active member of the group, and poured another drink.

    "Cheers, boys. To our new, illustrious future."

    Chief nodded.

    We're all just standing on the shoulders of giants. Thanks for helping me along, and thanks for living in my memory.

    Doctor Jensen
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 427
    Join date : 2013-01-18
    Age : 22
    Location : NSL, UT

    Re: Requiem of Glass.

    Post  Doctor Jensen on March 5th 2013, 1:30 pm

    Haunting. It has a great feeling of melancholy. I loved it.
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    Manny
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 1348
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 22
    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    Re: Requiem of Glass.

    Post  Manny on March 5th 2013, 11:51 pm

    "Send me out with a bang"...

    I cried so hard.
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    It's Kruger
    Freelancer Operative

    Posts : 336
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 20
    Location : 'murica.

    Re: Requiem of Glass.

    Post  It's Kruger on March 10th 2013, 5:54 pm

    Provokes sad feels...

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