Semper Simul
Chapter 1
New Friends – What does it all mean?
Maka covered her head with her hands as another artillery shell landed only a few dozen yards away. She let out a small whimper, part fear, and part forced by the shockwave of the ensuing explosion. She looked down the trench to her left, and there was Soul. He was covered in matt black body armor reminiscent of those sci-fi games he and Black*Star play incessantly. She could tell it was him by the small decal painting on his helmet reminiscent of the pins on his sweatband. He was holding a massive sniper rifle close to his chest. His soul was arctic cold, nearly no emotion at all. To her right was a girl she didn't recognize, her armor was slightly different than Soul's, and she was firing some kind of machine gun at the advancing soldiers. Her soul was permeated with bloodlust and absolute… glee.
A man grabbed her shoulder and pulled her visor to face his. The man had different armor than the other two and was armed with one of those rifle-machine gun thingies. Assault Rifles! He had an assault rifle with a tube underneath the barrel. Maka looked down and realized she had one of these as well. She stared for a second in amazement at the weapon. When did she start using guns? The man shook her, obviously trying to tell her something. She wanted to hear it desperately, anything to make sense of this maelstrom she was in, but all was silence. She realized she couldn't hear anything but a monotone ringing in her ears.
The man ducked, pulling her down with him, as another shell landed near-by, showering them in more mud and shrapnel. He seemed to come to some decision at that time. He let go of her arm and gestured to the girl to Maka's right. They both jumped out of the trench and charged into the thick smoke that had gathered around them. Soul jerked his head, probably in conjuncture with a curse Maka wouldn't have approved of. He unholstered a pistol at his right thigh, slinging the small cannon over his shoulder, before he too ran off into the smoke. Maka then began to hear a screaming. It was singular, unceasing, and familiar…
Maka awoke with a start, banging her head on the lamp as the alarm continued to blare. She had fallen asleep at her desk over a book of lore that might have some information on black blood or the demon swordsman or… something. She calmed down a bit once she realized that it was Saturday, then tensed back up as she realized that Lord Death would be giving Soul and Maka their partners today. During Soul and Maka's convalescence after their encounter with the demon swordsman and the witch, Lord Death decreed that Meisters would travel in teams of at least two meister-weapon pairs in response to said encounter. Should the team encounter a witch, the theory goes, two pairs should be enough to at least retreat in good order, instead of being annihilated.
They were supposed to report to the Death Room by 11:00 am and it was already 8:30. To Maka this was cutting pretty close, but Soul strongly disagreed as Maka slammed his door open. He groaned and rolled deeper into his comforter cocoon as she tore open his blinds and the light streamed in over him.
"Get up Soul, we're late!" Maka said in a near hysterical state as she left the room, not bothering to see whether or not he complied. Soul emerged from his layer just enough to see the clock and release a long moan. He returned to the comfortable, loving darkness of sleep. Almost immediately, or so it seemed to him, a large book came down where his head was and he screamed, as the comforter did not provide ballistic protection from such a powerful kinetic projectile. He screamed as he tried to disentangle himself, falling to the floor in the process.
"If you're not ready by the time I finish breakfast I'll get out Webster's!" She fumed. He emerged to find her resembling an enraged bull, despite having some of her best school clothes on and signs of a recent shower. Soul's eyes widened. Tsubaki had gotten her a massive centennial-whosemwhatsome edition for her birthday last year and Soul had already suffered a number of concussions from the massive BRASS BOUND dictionary. Who binds a book in f'ing METAL?! Soul immediately got up and headed for the shower.
Maka stood over the stove, frying some eggs in toast for her and Soul, an apron covering her best sweater vest, the black one with the DWMA sigil on the left breast. The dream had already been forgotten in her haste and she began to contemplate who their partners were going to be. Tsubaki and Black*Star had already been paired up with Kid and the Thompson Sisters, so she was going to be stuck with someone else. Ox Ford and Harver de Éclair? Maka shuddered at the thought. Kim and Jacky would be okay she guessed. She was left to these wandering thoughts as Soul came into the dining room, wearing the red dress shirt and white-on-black pinstripe pants she had laid out for him. Lucky for him, he came out just as she was putting the eggs on the table. He stopped short and looked at her nervously, but she nodded with approval, he had met the deadline.
Maka busied herself with her breakfast and Soul read the funnies, leisurely consuming the yolk-soaked toast. Eventually they both finished their breakfast and headed up to the Death Weapon-Meister Academy. They walked up the hill toward the most prominent feature in Death City, Nevada, as the motorcycle would have messed up their carefully groomed appearances. Carefully groomed in Maka's case at least, Soul's hair was as wild and unruly as ever. It was early November in the Mojave and the weather was pleasant and Maka took the opportunity to clear her head as they headed up the steep, winding roads of Death City.
They arrived half an hour early, much to Soul's chagrin, and Maka knocked on Death's Door. The large oak affair swung open slowly and they approached the center platform through the series of Japanese-style wooden arches.
"Howdy! Welcome! How's it goin'!" Lord Death greeted them as they stepped up on the platform.
"Good, Lord Death." Maka replied.
"Pretty good." Soul said.
"You're early as always, Maka. Why don't you guys have some tea while we wait for our other guests?" He said, gesturing to the low-set table and cushions with a tea set on top that hadn't been there a moment before.
They both murmured polite thank-yous as all three sat down. The cups were already filled and didn't seem to become depleted as they continued to drink the warm liquid. Maka's cup contained her favorite Irish breakfast tea, while Soul's had that Sri Lankan tea he liked so much. Lord Death said he had Earl Grey in his, but that was up for debate, as nobody knew if he actually drank the tea or not. He made slurping sounds, but had no mouth. One of the eternal mysteries of the universe. Soon Maka's curiosity got the better of her, she set her cup down with a clink.
"Lord Death, if it's not too much to ask, who are we being paired with?" Maka said, her hands curled on top of her knees in anticipation. Lord Death chuckled slightly before replying.
"I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise!" He said as he took another loud slurp of his tea.
Maka let out a quiet yet immensely frustrated sigh. She unclenched her hands and forced herself to calmly, and quietly, drink her tea. Soul had been subdued throughout the short exchange and Maka swore she could see a small smirk on his face, obscured by the raised tea cup. They would talk about THAT when they got home. The rest of the wait passed in silence, then at the very moment Soul's digital wristwatch beeped the hour, they all heard the door open. The clacking steps sounded offendingly loud in the cavernous chamber. Maka's tension grew exponentially with each step. After what seemed an eternity, the new arrivals closed with the pedestal.
One was a boy and one was a girl, both about Maka and Soul's age. The boy was built with a wrestler's body; thick at the waist and shoulders. His head seemed slightly narrow and he had a flat-top. It actually resembled a jar, bringing credence to the old cat-call. The girl was also thick and muscular, but not unshapely. Her hair was loose, but was only a couple of centimeters long. They both wore navy blue slacks with red stripes running down the outside, and navy blue coats, matching the pants, with brass buttons and red trimmings. They wore polished black dress shoes and had white wide-brimmed hats with black bills under their arms. White gloves and a white waist belt brought the whole thing together. The only insignia was on their collars and printed on the brass belt buckle, a death head superimposed on a diagonal anchor, surmounted by an eagle. All-in-all, Maka felt like she had underdressed. The boy stepped up on the platform, with the girl close behind. He delivered a sharp salute to Lord Death.
"Maka, Soul, these are your new partners, Erwin Rommel Sterling and Victoria Johnston. Erwin, Vic, this is Maka Albarn and Soul Eater, please have a seat." Lord Death said, gesturing to the appropriate individuals and then the chair. The boy, Erwin, gave a curt nod and sat on one of the cushions, opposite Maka, and the girl, Vic, sat opposite Soul. Maka cocked her head, wracking her brain. She had heard that name before, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"I always thought you had an interesting name, Erwin." Lord Death said after the two had taken their seats, "You know I had the pleasure of meeting one Colonel Rommel when he was commandant at the Theresian Military Academy, a brilliant man, very polite, before the whole WWII-Hitler problem off course." That hit it, General Erwin Rommel, commander of the famed 'Ghost Division' and 'Afrika Korps', he is widely considered one of the greatest military minds in history. She had read his books when she first became a combat meister, alongside other German treatise on war such as 'Achtung – Panzer!' and Clausewitz's 'On War'. It had helped her attain her trademark aggressive combat style.
Erwin made an affirmative grunt before taking a sip of his cup, which Maka noticed wasn't filled with tea, in fact, neither of the new comers had tea cups, both had coffee mugs. Vic's contained an aromatic Colombian brew while Erwin's had… hot chocolate of all things.
"What was the alternative again Eir, Eh?" Vic smirked. She had a strong accent, colonial English of some kind. Erwin mumbled something into his cup.
"What was that? We couldn't quite hear you." She put her hand up to her ear.
"Heinz!" Erwin growled, "Heinz Guderian." He started to mumble, "I swear, I don't know why I tell you anything."
"Just like the ketchup, HAH!" She continued, unfazed. She started to laugh and nearly fell out of her chair. Soul smirked, trying to hide a laugh. Maka thought it was a tad mean. It apparently didn't bother Erwin overly much. He simply assumed a resigned look, the kind you use with unruly children.
"Well Lord Death, thank you for the cocoa, and for introducing us, I'm sure you have much better things to do." He said.
"It's no problem at all, Erwin." Lord Death said as he got up, signaling an end to the proceedings. As soon as everyone was up, the table, beverages, and cushions disappeared in the blink of an eye. That always creeped Maka out.
"Well if you'll excuse us, we have to outfit these civvies." Erwin said, a slight grin on his face.
"I'm sure you do." Lord Death replied. Erwin turned to his toward his new partners.
"Maka, Soul, if you'll come with me, we'll get you outfitted." He said.
"Woa, woa, woa, Outfitted?" Soul replied,
"Yes, outfitted. If you think I'm going into combat with half my team unarmored, think again." Erwin's voice had attained an air of authority. Not overbearing or tyrannical, just a 'come with me if you want to live' kind of authority. Soul shut his trap, and they followed the two uniformed figures out of the Death Room.
Please review, I need to know whether or not it's worth my time to continue.
There may be lemons later, but that's a LONG way away.
I designed their uniforms after the USMC dress uniform, just FYI, insignia too.
I did the pic myself, spliced the US roundel with the DWMA Skull. Feel free to use it.
Once again, reviews, it's like ambrosia, need it, want it, love it.
Kid/Liz/Patty/Black*Star/Tsubaki will get here later, Crona too.