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Order marched in, knowing that he had nothing to worry about back in the barracks. His hand had been healing up over the past couple months. It takes time sense he didn't get proper help for it. He went into line and got his food.
He prefered to eat with his army so as to 'be one of them' rather then cast himself away from them. He sat down with the rest of his army over hearing something about toons.
"So yeah, toon A is open for a leader, which means after practice we will have a leader try out." he paused for a moment.
"Now my leader try out's aren't like the other army's. Mine are like the 'wax on, wax off' style of finding out. Same goes for my teachings." he let it go from there, and started eating. He sighed after the first bite, the same usual taste, the very boring taste every morning, afternoon and evening.
He looked over at Saint and Greg and Mere. "Now don't spoil it you guys!" he grinned from ear to ear, eager to hear the many responses from the table, to pick up the hopes of some of the soldiers, to make them at least try out for it.
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"Oh why would we ever do that? It'll be far too much fun to go through this from the other side now, not having to worry about where are position is. Besides, we won't know how good they are until we see them react to change anyways."
Greg smiled and remembered his Toon leader tryouts, now that had been an initiation. And it was great bonding as well. He hoped some of his toon would try out, it would be nice to see how far they had progressed since he had taken over their training.
Greg returned to his slop with fond memories of being a Flame newbie in his head.
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"So, I guess we newbies will get divided then as well, eh?" Jostijn said. He couldn't wait till practise! He had looked forward to being in an army ever since he had arrived at Battle School.
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Mac raised his head to look at Order. The commander. A job Mac would never hold. He was too quiet, too shy. He didn't have the ambition to fill the position properly.
However, he thought he might make a decent toon leader. But trying for Toon A right off the bat didn't seem like a good idea.
Mac looked at his food and said, "I'd try out. But I know I won't get it..."
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Jostijn heard Mac say he probably wouldn't become Toonleader. Jostijn felt sorry for the guy. He had a really low selfconfidence. Jostijn realised that his confidence might be a little to high. "Hey, you have a better chance at getting it than every single one at this table." he said so only Mac could hear him. "Just try, mate!" Jostijn whispered.
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Mac stopped mumbling and looked at Jostijn. "Thanks," he said. He forced a smile. And then a thought occured to him.
He was smart enough. He was good enough. He was at Battle School, wasn't it? Maybe he would give the Toon Leader audition a shot. He was only expecting failure, so it wouldn't hurt that much when it happened. And it would be even more fulfilling if he succeeded.
Mac smiled for real. More enthused, he looked at Jostijn and said, "Thanks. I think I will give it a shot."
He took another bite of food. He looked at Saint and asked, "You think I got a shot at the Toon Leader position?"
Realizing his bluntness, he blushed and looked at his food.
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"You've all got shots if you work for it. This army needs everyone to be at their best. You try, and just watch. You'll end up being better for it."
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Genna smiled slightly and looked up from her food. Toon leader. That would be interesting. Maybe I could get a reward or something. I can picture it: a golden plaque with a dark wood finish surrounding, in the gold the words say: Genesis Wolkie. Smallest Toon leader alive. She snickered. Of course Genna knew that would never happen, but the irony always got to her. She finally decided that this would be a good time to introduce herself to her army.
"You've all got shots if you work for it. This army needs everyone to be at their best. You try, and just watch. You'll end up being better for it."
Genna sat up straight. As if that helps my hieght... "Very true," she said, raising her voice. "If you ever wanted to try out later, you know what to look for." She smiled and added, "I'm Genna, by the way."
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Order smiled, he had achieved what he wanted, people were now talking about at least trying much rather then giving up hope immediately. "All very good points, I don't see why people don't think they stand a chance, I mean we are in a school full of very intelligent masterminds, and of course includes everyone at this table. So you stand just as much of a chance as the kid across the room from you." he said with a reassuring grin.
"Now please hurry and finish up because we will be having our practice soon after this, but I will assign toons and pick leaders later this evening. Understood?"
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Mac was only slightly reassured. Low self-esteem was a problem he'd been battling for a long time. He honestly didn't feel like he deserved to be in Battle School. He'd told the tester this.
"Why should I go? I'm no smarter than any other kid!" Mac was confused.
The Fleet tester looked at the test results in his hand and chuckled. "That's where you're wrong kid. You scored much higher than most kids. In fact, these results are some of the highest that I've encountered in my tests. That's confidential, of course."
Mac sighed. Why him? He just wanted to stay home and play Cowboys and Indians with his imaginary friend, Reginald.
Mac ate some more of the Mess food. He mumbled to himself. He began to hum the song "Sick, Sick, Sick" by the Queens of the Stone Age. He could always find solace in music.
He finished off the tray and pushed it aside. He put his head on his arms. He turned his head and looked down the table at the talking soldiers. None of them seemed to care that they were being trained to save the world.
Maybe that's why Mac had such a problem with the Battle School. Everything ends with war. Violence. Conflict. Mac had never been one for conflict. When provoked, he was barbaric. But he preferred to take a more passive and sometimes more sneaky approach to conflict. Out right attacks bothered him. Everything was a strategy for him. Everything a dance.
Mac tapped his foot in rythym. He looked over at Saint and asked her, "Is it hard to be a Toon Leader? I'm going to try out for the Toon Leader A position."
Mac could hardly believe it. No matter what he always told himself, it turned out he was at least a little bit ambitious. And a little bit rock and roll.
Mac snapped his fingers and returned his gaze to Saint.
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"Sometimes its hard, but its all worth it" she grinned "Try as hard as you can in practice, that's when Order'll be watching" Saint stood up and got rid of her tray.
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Toe stood up after Saint and followed her to dump his tray. "Do you think I would have a chance?" He knew that her answer wouldn't really mean anything, but he need some reassurence.
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Geena finished her food and was now simply staring at her plate. Do good during the practices? I guess that makes sense. Draw his attention now so he'll think better of you later. Plain logic. Why didn't I figure that out? Oh yeah, I was too bussy listening to other people's conversations. But didn't I just get that idea from another conversation? I'm confusing myself again. Ok. Today's plan: umm......... Should I be open and willing? Or should I just be obiediant and try hard? Or maybe I can try hard, be obiediant, and be open at the same time. Yeah, that sounds good. Realizing that other kids were already leaving, she emptied her tray and walked into the halls. She would have to figure out how to put on her flash suit by herself.
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Mac disposed of his tray. He walked over to Saint and smiled. He didn't say much at first. He just smiled. She probably thinks you're creepy. Talk. Say something to distract from the weird staring thing.
Mac opened his mouth and said, "Guess we've got practice soon, huh? That's exciting, right?"
Mac realized what he'd just said and cursed his own lack of control of words. When he spoke, he sounded lame. When he didn't, he looked lame.
Lame duck. That's what he was. He'd have to shape up if he wanted to be a Toon Leader. A leader. A cartoon. A cartoon of a leader. A disgrace.
He smirked. And chuckled. Why do I always end up insulting myself? Low self-esteem, maybe?
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Order finished and threw away his tray, "C'mon head on up to the barracks, there I can officially talk and plan things with the army." he said to the people crowding the trash can as he left.
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Jostijn wasn't really finished yet, but threw away all the food he didn't want anymore. He wondered why Order sent them to the barracks, instead of the battle room but it didn't matter. He followed the rest of the army out of the Mess.
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Greg dumped the rest of his tray and pocketed the roll before running out of the Mess with the rest of Flame in tow. Flame hadn't had new recruits in awhile and he couldn't wait to see what these launchies brought to the Toon Leader tests. If they could do it better than Greg, Saint, and Mere had, then Flame was about to become a much better army.
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Saint nodded "Practices are always interesting in Flame" she lightly touched the back of her head. It had healed a while a ago, but sometimes she still got 'phantom pains', as Mark had called them, thinking about it. She followed everyone out of the mess and into the barracks.
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Bojangles flew into the mess with a big grin on his face. He loved spicing up the morning.
"GOOD MOOORNING BATTLE SCHOOL!"
He shouted at the top of his lungs and marched into the line for his food.
The lunch lady looked at him and sighed "Whadya want?"
Bojangles grinned from ear to ear
"I'll have the steak and eggs, with a side of ham and hash browns, oh and i'll have the orange juice."
The lunch lady gave the fakest smile and grabbed the laddel. "So you mean you want the mush, with the mush and a side of mush? Ok comming right up." She handed Bojangles the tray with a satisfying smile on her face.
Bojangles frowned, he figured she would ruin his fun. He took the tray and thanked her and quickly found a seat.
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OOC-I thought we'd started just posting all of this stuff in the barracks so we wouldn't have to keep track of two or three threads...
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OOC-I figured we could make it more lively by posting in the other areas, yeah it's harder to keep track, but I think it makes things more interesting.
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OOC-I just think it makes things more confusing, but whatever you say.
Alistair laughed as he got in line behind Bojangles' toon. This was the fun part of having him in your army. A good sense of humor was rare in this place. Beside him London rolled her eyes. She didn't have anything against Bojangles, but his antics could get tiresome after a while. At a certain point it stopped being funny and started casting the entire army in a bad light, and she couldn't stand that.
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Toon D casually rolled into the mess hall, chatting among themselves and moving over to join the rest of their army. An onlooker would find nothing unusual about that at first glance, but upon closer inspection, a sort of unified, separatist air could be detected, one that made the group differ from the rest of the army. There was no military formation or formal stride, just a sense of integrated intentions, as if the toon was moving as one body and not as a random assortment of children coming for breakfast.
Some of it wore off as their commander broke from them and filed in behind the other toon leaders of Hornet army.
"Morning, sir," he greeted Alistair jovially, seemingly unfazed by the daunting appearance of the so-called food that was smacked onto his plate. "Bo, Bridge." He nodded to the other two present toon commanders, acknowledging them.
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"Morning, Jude," Alistair said casually. London turned to Jude, frowning. "Last I checked we aren't that close," She hissed, "So it's London, got it." She loathed people addressing her by her nickname, mainly because she hadn't picked the name herself. Certainly someone like Jude, who was more of an enemy than friend, had no right to call her by the nickname. 'Bridge,' She thought to herself, 'What a stupid pun.'
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Arrow sat across from Bojangles watching with slight disgust at his behavior. "Need a bib?" he asked, handing him a napkin and munching on a roll.
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Order marched in with his army and watched them all file in line. Everyone knew that he didn't eat in the commanders mess because he preferred to stick with his army. He him self got in line got his food and drink and headed to the table.
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Bojangles eyed Arrow, but quickly caught sight of a larger being in the room. His eye's followed the the large man into the line.
Order...the commander of Flame, the army that shows such good skill...
Bojangles wanted to know what Order was capable of. He stood up from the table. "Please pardon me for a few seconds, I guarantee i'll be back."
he walked off directly towards the end of the line where Order was about to be. --------
Order got his food and looked for the table not paying attention to anyone in particular. He started walking toward his table when some one bumped into him. His tray left his hands and hit the floor.
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"Oh please forgive me sir, I didn't mean to bump into you." Bojangles said in a snide half smile.
Order was a tad shocked most soldiers feared commanders and the fact that this soldier had the nerve to purposely knock the tray out of his hands, made him confused.
"Oh I seriously doubt you did that by accident, but im going to let it slide just this once."
Bojangles started to laugh a little and then slowly built up.
"Are you telling me that if I had shot you, you would have let me by because I claimed it was an accident? I practically told you I did it on purpose with my expression and you still plan to do nothing about it? How serious can you be? I bet your soldiers are all far too stupid to be able to do anything!"
Order tensed up, he was just being nice. He didn't want anything to do with this kid, but that certainly changed.
Order picked Bojangles up by his uniform and brought Bojangles to Order's face.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of my soldiers and I should let them deal with you, but you know what, im not going to. However just to let you know I am serious about what I do, I think you should clean up this mess."
Order threw Bojangles down on top of the food and the drink that was all over the floor, and then stepped on him as if he were a towel to a puddle of water.
Order had lost his appetite, he no longer wanted food, soldiers like that made him sick. He went back to his table and sat down with a pissed attitude written all over his face. Bojangles had put him in a bad mood. --------------
When Bojangles hit the ground he felt a horrible mush go up his nose and kept his mouth shut. It had happened again, what ever it was wouldn't let him remember or even know about what had just happened. He was eager to know though and quickly got up and ran back to the Hornet table.
"What Just happened!?" he shouted at his table "What did I just Do?" -----------
Order slammed his hand against the table and stood up. "Hurry up and eat, im done here and we need to get to practice!" Order left the table and marched out of the mess hall.
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OOC-Tirath, we haven't had the battle yet, or I would have mentioned it. I was going to have most of the first day THEN the battle, and then cut to the main story...
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Heath sat back and flicked napkin wads at the other armies who were eating. and your a launchie, and your a butthead, and your a bugger lover...
He watched as his commander practically made that loud obnoxious boy eat dirt.
"Hey kid, yeah you launchie. Go sit and tear this napkin up. Yeah, this one too. Go! And leave the pieces in front of you on the table." Heath was going to make this fun. He wadded up a larger napkin ball and rolled it in a bit of water he dripped on the table. He picked his spoon up and sent it flying. Hitting Bojangles right square on the left cheek.
Heath then grabbed his roll and very casually went about finishing his breakfast.
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Alistair grinned, turning to Bojangles. "So, how's it feel to literally have egg on your face?" He asked. London smirked from her seat. She wasn't a fan of Bojangles' humor, but she had to admit, watching Order force feed him breakfast was actually pretty funny. He turned back to the table, his expression becoming serious. "If all of the toon leaders would join me for a moment," He said, loudly, "I want to talk about today's practice." Most of them were close enough already, but he wanted to make sure everyone knew the plan. *** Frost entered the mess just in time to watch Order introduce a Hornet soldier to a tray. He grinned. So, the great Order was not immune to anger after all. *** Iris stared at Order, surprised by his actions. He didn't seem like the type to get into fights. She would have to remember not to get on his bad side.
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Bojangles leaned in, after cleaning him self off with a few napkins and such. No one had answered his question, but it was enough to guess at the situation.
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"That's what I wanted to talk about," He said, "No set plans, but I went over our last battle a lot, and a few problems from each toon caught my attention." He looked Bojangles dead in the eye, continuing. "Your toon, for example, was extremely reckless. You fell straight into several of the enemy's traps because you were too headstrong to realize what was going on." Turning to the others, he continued his point by point breakdown. "While they're attacks were more reserved, A and C had the fewest soldiers frozen, and had a fair number of kills, however they used simple tactics that made the battle more drawn out." Finall he turned to Jude, finishing. "As always, Toon D completely failed to follow orders, and made several costly mistakes because of this." He paused, taking a moment to eat. "So, for today's practice I was thinking of having a skirmish between the toons, A and C against B and D. Sound good?"
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Harvey watched Order take action against the punk-Hornet soldier. He was provoked and Harvey wasn't surprised by Order's course of action. Instead he smiled lightheartedly, finished his meal, told Iris not to worry about Order, and hurried out of the mess to get ready for practice.
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Nero sat next to Sky and listened to him speak to Bojangles, who left quickly to speak with the other toon leaders and Alistair. What would anger Bo so much to just confront Order, a senior soldier and commander? It was foolish, nonetheless. He turned his attention to the food he was eating. "Dios, gracias por esta comida." He dug into the grub-that-he-considered-5-star-meals.
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"Last I checked we aren't that close," London hissed at Jude, "So it's London, got it." Well, nice to know this one can be agitated qutie easily, he mused, taking a mental note to use that in the future. He rolled his eyes at Bojangles' senseless provocation of Order, the commander of Flame. He had long given up on trying to figure out that kid and was now satisfied with him displaying a sharp contrast to Jude's much more professional behaviour, and proving that Alistair did not make the best of choices when he decided to let him stay as a toon leader.
His attention was diverted, however, as Alistair summoned them to discuss the upcoming practice and the most recent battle. His words were true - Jude's strategy was costly, but not for him. Toon D's careful maneuvers and focused strikes were in complete disagreement with Alistair's orders, but the also forced the enemy to place their traps in expendable spots. It was not entirely Bo's fault that he stepped into them, as they were placed at odd points, but while Toon B was walking straight into the opponent's pincer ambush, Toon D conquered some of the battlefield's most valuable locations. If Alistair was going to write off his divertion strikes as mistakes, or just wanted to make him look bad, Jude was not going to correct him. If the other toon leaders were smart they would see what had really occurred.
However, a skirmish between the toons sounded like a fairly decent idea. Still, the idea of having to team up with Bojangles was repulsive on its own. He'd have to see what type of influence he'd be able to impose on Toon B until the practice was up.
"Sir, perhaps pointing out our army's flaws in the middle of the mess hall for everyone to hear is a bit careless," he remarked with feigned hesitation, as if he was reluctant to indicate his commander's error.
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"Only if you plan to make the same mistakes twice," Alistair said, "And I don't plan on letting that happen." Alistair understood the attempt to turn a simple breakdown of the battle against him, but also realized that the other leaders would probably not see things Jude's way. Alistair was not loudly announcing the flaws in his army, and he was not attempting to shame any of his soldiers. Still, Alistair made note of Jude's comment. Next time he'd discuss battle flaws in the barracks. Just because something was an act of rebellion didn't mean it couldn't be learned from.
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"Of course," Jude replied drily - only that if the enemy heard that his toon had a tendency to disobey orders, they wouldn't know what to expect of them, which gave Toon D a personalised advantage in battle.
"So, will practice be right after breakfast?"
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"Of course," Alistair said, "You can go get ready if you want, or discuss a plan with Bojangles. I don't have any other announcements."
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Iris stood, leaving the mess to prepare for practice. Frost followed her with his eyes. She was so weak, the newbie. She didn't believe in herself at all. She was just going to be a hindrance. If Order had any brains at all he'd trade her away. He glanced over at his target, Arrow, and waited for him to reveal a weakness. *** London didn't feel the need to plan with Arrow immediately. She was on good terms with him, and they tended to work together well. Instead she drew the attention of her commander. "Alistair," She whispered to him, "Can we talk privately for a moment." Alistair nodded, nonchalantly following her away from the table. He already knew what this was about. She only felt the need to talk privately when it concerned someone else. "Sir," She said, "Not to question your logic, but wouldn't it make more sense to team the weaker toons with the stronger toons?" Alistair smiled. That thought had crossed his mind the night before. "Yes," He said, "But the commanders do well paired with each other. Jude doesn't work with anyone, and falsely believes he can win battles alone. By contrast, as well as Bojangles is with others, he can be frustrating to deal with." He gestured at London. "You've proven that yourself," He said. She nodded, following him back to the table. "Practice is in ten minutes," He said, "If your late, I freeze your arms." The threat drew several small chuckles. He'd threatened to disable soldiers in practice several times. But maybe today he'd actually do it. ((OOC:Alright, I'm trying to get things moving. Tirath, I suggest we just go straight to Flame practicing))
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Attempting to keep his footsteps as silent as possible, Theodore Grash entered the mess hall for the first time. Ever since the Anti-Battle School campaign started occurring planet side anyone associated with the School chose to keep their head down. Even though there was the common bond within the School- everyone had been effected somehow.
Thoughts flashed back to the crowds that gathered as Theodore (Theo O. as his friends called him) and his future classmates boarded the craft that would take them to medium Earth orbit. The protest started off peaceful enough, just some over zealous mid-aged individuals expressing their verbal concerns. But as the ship continued its preparations and the crowd noticed they weren't effecting any outcomes, they became violent. The flight and ground crews started to run through all their tasks and quickly ushered Theo and his peers into the ship. The crowd finally got past the barriers, but it was already too late. No doubt Theo would hear about the outcome of this incident later, recent reform in the protocol Battle School had to follow ensured that parents of School students had privileges of contact with their children. Of course Theo wouldn't be hearing the news from his parents, they practically threw him at the Battle School representatives. No, Theo was confident he would hear this news from the loving parents he constantly overheard his peers talking about. What Theo was not thinking about was how it was one thing to make a rule, but it was another task altogether to enforce it. Especially rules that applied to schools in space.
For now all Theo was thinking about, and wanted to think about, was food. Once he retrieved his pre-portioned tray he scanned the room for any friendly faces. Unsure how to judge character in this foreign place Theo elected to start his Battle School experience alone.
"Just like back home," he thought while taking his first bite of food in two days. Immediately letting the cotton bile he tasted fall from his mouth he couldn't help but continue thinking, "Yep, this is just like back home."
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Mykola Yuriovytch Tymoshenko stepped into the mess and couldn't care less - he kept telling himself that. That's the way to get by. He still hadn't found his place among the other students...and he couldn't care less. He sighed inwardly looking around at the mass of students in the large, pristine room. Social butterflies all. He sniffed at them all, and they all could think what they wanted; he wasn't Russian. He was Ukrainian - Kyivian Russ, not Kozaky, but dark haired, green eyed, tall, and built like a horse rider. It ate at him that people assumed he was Russian bacuase of his accent. And, it ate at him that people assumed he was a spy of some sort for the Russians. But they - they were dolbaebi!
He moved across the room to get his food, his eyes half closed. The room was so full, but he couldn't turn around now. That would be showing fear. The battle school language roiled around him like so many twittering juvenile birds with a little Russian thrown in here and there. The Russians knew he wasn't one of them, but he could still understand them just fine.
He got his food and looked for a place to sit. Every table, every table but one had three or four students. Only one table had one student. Now what? He could either leave his tray, be hungry for a day, and choose a different time to be hungry tomorrow; or he could just take his chances.
"Ho," he said to the boy sitting by himself.
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