AN:So, this story idea came up to me... A while ago.
It's gonna be interesting, so trust me when I start telling it. Ask Heinkelboy05 about the idea behind it and who all of the people are supposed to be here.
A Young One's Requiem:The Soviet-American War
Chapter 1:Waking up to Hell...
Darkness greeted the eyes of one young boy. A cold wind rushed across his face and on his palms and back, he could feel an ice-cold sheet of snow. The boy's eyes struggled to open, to a grayish sky. His dark-green eyes slowly shifted around as he let out ragged breaths. The boy pushed himself and straightened up, then looked around him, to see a thick layer of snow surrounding him. He gasped and stood up, then looked about. Examining himself, he was clad in his usual clothing. The N7 hoodie from the Mass Effect memorabilia, his blue jeans and sneakers, as well as his shirt underneath the Hoodie. The boy looked around the snowy ground, for any sign of the weapon he'd taken, when he saw it...
Metal and wood body, with a skeleton stock, the Romanian-made AKM lay on the ground. A modernized version of the AK-47 Soviet assault rifle, it was a handy weapon and quite deadly, while also very reliable. Picking it up off the ground and pushing snow off its receiver. The boy cocked the weapon's bolt back slightly, looking inside to see that the magazine was still full, if not one bullet less...
He sighed, then looked around at the icy wasteland that surrounded him and sighed, then murmured "Hell of a mess you got yourself into, Adrian..." his gaze locking onto a small road, with tracks on it and a sign. Walking toward it, the boy could see that whatever the city was, it'd been scraped over by either a knife or something else. On it, he found his glasses, which were hnaging loosely, but they were still okay. He placed them over his eyes and sighed, then shivered as the cold winds of winter swept over him. He exhaled, his steamy breath escaping from his mouth, then looked to the distance to the town...
"A kilometer... If I can last through walking in this cold, sure..." He murmured to himself, then, looking on the floor beside the sign pole, he saw another weapon... In a holster, an M1911 Colt pistol was laid to rest. The boy grabbed the cold leather holster and the gun off the ground and clipped them to his belt, then withdrew the pistol from the holster and cocked the bolt back slightly, to see ammo still present within the clip. The gun felt heavy, so that meant all rounds were inside. He sighed, holstered the gun, then said "Looks like my luck is holding..." And he smirked, then slid his hood over his head, rifle on his back by the leather strap and put his hands in his pockets, then he started walking down the road.
Nearly an hour later, the boy found himself at the outskirts of a small city, his eyes locked on smoke columns trailing into the dark clouds around. The buildings around him looked old, but also somewhat new... Inter-bellic period maybe? Between the two World Wars? Either way, their roofs were also covered with snow, so that meant a snowstorm had fallen earlier today... The boy sniffed the air and a strange, sour smell attacked his nostrils. He covered his mouth, then sighed and continued walking. The deeper he got into town, the more damaged its buildings were. He slowly walked, then started calling "Hello?! Anyone alive here? Your town looks like a hurricane just hit it!" And he sighed, receiving no answer.
A thought occurred to him that if he tried once and no answer came around, it'd be worthless trying to call again. He drew his M1911, then started walking through the place, both hands on the gun and at the ready. The buildings turned to rubble partway into the town and, as he got to a town square with a bridge nearby, the boy could see it... Bloodied snow, a sea of crimson, along with the dead bodies of soldiers, weapons beside them... The boy sniffed again and the rancid smell yet again came to him, making him cover his mouth and nose.
The boy slowly walked toward one of the soldiers, who was clad in a tan uniform, with no camouflage patterns. On his shoulder there was a badge with a bald eagle crest and, above it, was written AIRBORNE in bold golden letters. The boy slung the pistol onto his hip, then pulled the man over by his chest rig, which looked like a classic World War 2 set of gear and saw his face... The man looked mangled, spit and blood dripping off his bloating face, his eyes yellow with strange blue goop dripping out of them, his mouth wide. On his head resided a green American M2 Helmet with netting over it and beside him, his weapon of choice. An American Thompson Sub machine gun...
"Christ almighty..." The boy murmured, keeping his mouth and face covered by his hand. "The fuck happened to this reenactment group?"
"Hold it right there! Drop your guns before we drop you!" He heard a boy's voice cry as weapons cocked all around him. The boy froze, his eyes wide, pupils narrowed... He saw the barrels of the weapons poking out of the darkness and from the buildings and gasped, throwing aside his AKM and pistol into the snow, then immediately raising his hands and crying "DON'T SHOOT! PLEASE!"
Out of the buildings came four young soldiers, their weapons, old World War 2 rifles and SMGs, trained on him. Their leader, a boy that couldn't be any older than him, had his Trench Gun aimed for him, sharp bayonet pointing at the stomach. Adrian swallowed, then thought to himself as cold sweat dripped down his brow 'What the fuck happened to me?! Where in God's name did I end up!?'
"One word of Russian out of you and you're swiss cheese, pal." The leader said, narrowed pupils peering down the shotgun's iron sights. The boy nodded, confused, then started murmuring to himself in Romanian "Să vedem... Uniforme ale diviziei 101 din al doilea război mondial... Arme... Vorbesc în Engleză... Fie am ajuns în fața unui grup foarte dedicat de Role-Playeri și reenactment, fie... A doua variantă îmi scapă... Is the chick Lara CROFT?!' noticing her defining features, the boy got a little excited at the sight, a slight grin on his face.
The boy saw the Paratrooper kids' leader become a little less tense as he lowered his shotgun, his eyes going back to normal. He raised his hand and showed the other kids, of which a GIRL, to lower their guns, which they reluctantly did. The leader looked him in the eye, then asked, his blue eyes glaring daggers, "What the hell is a Romanian doing all the way in Alaska?" to which Adrian's eyes widened... Fucking Alaska?!
"Much more, dressed like someone fresh out of a circus..." The girl said, her SMG by her hip as she walked up beside the boy. "Who are you?"
"M-Ma'am... My name is Adrian Marasti. Born in Bucharest, currently aged 16." The boy answered, his eyes still wide over the 'Alaska' part. He looked to the leader, then asked "Y-You said this was Alaska... W-What day, month and year is it we're in?"
"Late February of 1932." He said, to which Adrian staggered back, staring at the floor and shivering "19... 1932... No way... It was 2017 when I was last awake... H-hey... Can I let my arms down? They're hurting..." He then finalized as his arms trembled. The leader motioned to him to do so, making the boy sigh in relief as his arms slumped by his hips. He rubbed his shoulders, then looked to the soldier-boy.
"2017?" The girl and boy ahead of him said, looking at each other with weird glances. The boy looked to Adrian, then said "Listen, pal, I don't know what happened to you or how you survived the Commies' gas attacks, but we've been in 1932 for a good 2 months now and I'm pretty sure I can tell the time. "
"Wait, wait. You're fighting the Commies as in RUSSIANS? And the whole dead Paratrooper division here is... By gassing?" The boy asked. So many questions, so little time... The leader nodded, then said "Yeah. Who else?" Before a boy rushed toward them, handing the leader a radio. He placed it by his ear and asked "What's the situation?" and his eyes widened. "Shit. Russian platoon incoming! Everyone, gear the hell up and head for the bridge! We need to hold'em off!" And he looked to Adrian, then said "Get somewhere safe, stay put while we finish off here."
"No way! I'm here, I'm fighting!" The boy said, taking a step ahead. The soldier walked up to him, then grabbed him by the collar and said "No way. You're a civilian. You'd get in the way and get either yourself or one of us killed!" Before Adrian shoved his hand away and jabbed a finger at him, then said "This is the Reds we're speaking of here! You'll need all hands on deck, even a civilian like me!" He pointed to the AKM on the floor, then said "I fired that before! And a couple of other guns too!"
"Jack's right. You'd just get in the way!" She stated in a thick British accent, wrapping both hands around her SMG. Adrian raised his hand, index finger up, basically telling her to shut up, then said "Don't start with me, Tomb Raider. This is between me and the bossman." To which the girl raised her brow in confusion, while Adrian and the leader kept staring each other down. The boy's dark-green eyes felt like they were piercing the boy's soul and the commander of the squad could tell immediately that this kid was no joke. He had a start of the thousand yard stare, oh-so-known for every soldier... He growled, then said "Fine. If you get killed, it ain't on me! Grab your shit and let's move!"
The Romanian smirked, then rushed to grab his AKM and Pistol, slid them both onto his person and followed the American soldiers, running through the desolate and empty streets of the place, where more rubble and broken buildings resided. Getting to the bridge, which was on a narrow street just above a small, frozen body of water, the young Romanian saw a heavily entrenched position, where 8 more soldiers resided. One of them, a light-blonde male with short hair, walked up to the leader and the supposed Lara Croft and nodded, then said "Lawrence. We got a squad of 32 Russian Soldiers. Korra just spotted them coming our way." and he looked to the Romanian, who was forcing himself to hide a smile, then pointed at him and asked "What the hell is he doing here?"
"Let's just say Stray Boy over there is now a temporary member. He volunteered for it." The leader said, pointing back at him. "Anything else we should know, Baird? Any heavy weapons or anything the Reds may be bringing over?"
"No." He answered, shouldering his M1 Carbine. He looked to the boy behind the leader and said "Hey, Stray Boy! How good are ya at hauling ammo?!"
"I can manage!" The Romanian answered, drawing his AKM. "Just tell me where and when you need it!"
"Copy that. Go to Cole! He can give ya the bags and the gear!" Baird nodded, then he pointed at one of the buildings and said "In there! Grab the ammo and get your ass in gear!"
The Romanian smirked, then saluted and started running toward the building, leaving the two soldiers to talk things out. His grin widened after he caught a glimpse of all the soldiers there... He recognized all of them... "MacTavish from Modern Warfare, Baird and probably Augustus Coletrain from Gears of War, Shao Jun from AC, Mako, Bolin, Korra and Asami from Avatar and Lara Croft from Tomb Raider... I think I'm in heaven or something..." And he chuckled like a giddily school girl as he got inside the room where the ammo dump was set up. Several cans and bags of ammo were filled up on a table, behind which a dark-skinned man with a shaved cut stood, loading more rounds into each clip for each weapon, from .45 ACP bullets for the SMGs to 7.92 for the rifles and belts of ammo for the MG nest he saw. The older boy looked to Adrian, then asked "You the one they sent for ammo?"
"Y-Yes, sir." The boy nodded, smiling. "Adrian Marasti. 16... And a Civvie by all means... But if I can do anything to help, I want to."
"Lawrence and Baird told me about it." The boy smirked, nodding, then extended his hand and said "Name's Augustus Cole. Call me Cole or Cole Train. Up to ya." And the two shook hands, Adrian nodding. "Okay, Cole. What ammo should I grab?" making the afro-american boy point at the bench behind him, where two ammo bags and cans resided "Those. Come back for more once you've evenly spread out the gear. I'll be right out too."
"Gotcha." Adrian nodded, grabbing the cans and bags "Be right back." He nodded to Cole, then he ran out. Going into one of the first entrenched positions, to the sight of an American .30 cal. the boy noticed Lara Croft and MacTavish manning it, then nodded to them, pulled out an ammo box that said '.30 cal belts' and handed it to them, then asked "How many boxes do you need for the .30?" to which Lara nodded and said "Two. This is the only .30 cal we got."
The boy nodded, then placed the second box and helped the two open it. Lara nodded to him, then said "Thanks. These'll come in handy." to which Adrian answered with a smile, grabbed the other cans and opened it, revealing Thompson mags. The boy gave five to Lara, set the cap on, then handed a few mags of rifle ammo to MacTavish, who was looking down through the ironsights of an M1 Garand. He nodded, then said "Thanks, kid." And put them into his chest rig. Lara manned the MG, loading the ammo and preparing it. Adrian left the place without saying a word and moved toward a second position, where Korra and Mako were, the former with a Springfield 1903 Rifle, its telescopic sight attached. He nodded to the two, then pulled out ammo and split it evenly to Korra and Mako, meanwhile handing out a few grenades to them.
"Hey, kid." Baird said, walking beside him. Adrian looked up, then asked "Something the matter?" to which Baird shook his head, then handed him an M1 Garand and pointed at his AKM, then added "Just in case you run out of ammo for that. Keep splitting the ammo and then join me and Jack Lawrence in our trench. We're about to dig in. The Reds are coming in hot."
Adrian nodded, took the rifle into a firm grasp and slung it behind his shoulder, grabbed a few Garand clips, then went to the others to split out the ammo. Asami and Bolin, Jack and Baird, the other two and, finally, Cole and Shao Jun. The boy settled into his trench, beside Jack and Baird, then cocked his AKM and looked down the iron sights. He had also gone back and handed out grenades with the help of Cole. Each group had about 20 grenades in their foxhole. Adrian cocked back the bolt of the AR and shouldered it properly, supporting it against the sandbags.
"Steady... Steady! Wait for'em to come to us!" Lawrence cried, looking ahead, his trench gun on his back and a Garand in hand. Looking ahead, Adrian could both hear and see the enemy as boots thumped against the stone road, crushing snow underneath their heels. Clad in brown and green coats, with red epaulettes and thick, padded hats, the Russian Ushankas with the red star on their foreheads. On their backs were assorted Russian World War 2 weapons, as well as a few prototypes from the time. Adrian breathed in as snow began to fall around them and put his hood over his head, then looked to Jack, whose hand was raised, tensing everyone up.
Eyes down the sight, finger on the trigger and the weapon aimed toward the enemy. Adrian's eyes were locked onto a soldier wearing a Commissar's Cap, with a red band. An NKVD Commissar. Stalin's 227 was in effect, then... He growled, then aimed for the head of the officer carrying a Tokarev. There were more behind the first wave. Jack looked to everyone, then said "A bit more... Just a bit..." And, as tension fell to the triggers, he cried "GO!" bringing his palm down onto the sandbag wall. Adrian's rifle roared and the first round struck the Soviet officer square in the head.
The Russians soon scrambled for cover in the rubble-filled street across the bridge, weapons fire impacting and scratching the walls around them, bullets hitting some in the head, so on and so forth. Adrian found himself focusing fire on single Russians on single-shot, determining the patterns and intervals at which they came out and keeping them pinned. He saw Jack and Baird firing away from their weapons, Baird with his M1 Carbine. A shot whispered by Adrian's ear, a sniper having scoped him in. He ducked behind the sandbag as another shot came in and looked to Jack, then yelled "SNIPER! HE'S GOT OUR POSITION ZEROED IN!" before firing blindly over the top. Three bursts of three. Jack nodded, then looked to Korra and gave a cutting motion across his neck and pointed at the sniper, to which the girl nodded and looked down the scope of her rifle again.
Two Russian soldiers with PPsH SMGs opened fire. The Balalaikas' high rate of fire sent a hail of bullets sparking across the walls and striking the sandbags, as well as hitting around the group. Adrian felt a sting on his shoulder and heard some fabric tear, but he ignored it as he kept up the fire from his Assault Rifle, effectively pinning down the Reds behind their rubble. He snarled, then took his right hand away from the grip of the rifle and placed it on his shoulder, feeling warmth. He swore, then said "One of the fucks nicked me!" And he wiped the blood onto a bit of snow beside him.
Jack tossed the boy a can of glass and steel, with a blue gem inside, then said "Ragnaid! Spin the counter below the can and place it next to your wound! It heals anything minor and helps with major wounds!"
Adrian looked toward the Ragnaid with awe. "Și acum, Valkyria Chronicles... Fir-ar al naibi..." He smirked, then spun the container's counter to one, for minor wounds, and placed it by his struck hand, feeling a faint blue aura envelop his hand. His wound stung as it healed, but closed and the bleeding stopped. Jack nodded to him, then said "Keep on firing! You're good now!" And Adrian answered by placing the Ragnaid in the pocket of his N7 hoodie and shouldering the AR, then firing a single shot, right into the chest of a Russian officer who aimed his pistol at them. Two more Russian soldiers fell, gunned down by the .30 in the MG nest and several more received Grenades in their hidey-holes.
Thirteen more Russian soldiers remained and Adrian immediately saw it... They were attaching bayonets and drawing melee weapons. The Officer leading them, the last Commissar, drew his Tokarev, then yelled the classic 'ZA RODINU!' before jumping out of cover and rushing ahead. The thirteen Russian soldiers, bayonets tipping their Mosins and spades and knives shining, rushed ahead. What Adrian saw in one's hand shook him to the core... He had an AK47 with a wood butt stock... The man raised the bayonet-tipped weapon, then fired bursts toward them, keeping the MG nest and the snipers pinned, as well as him, Baird and Jack.
Adrian growled angrily, his eyes bloodshot red, then looked to the one carrying an AK, stood up as shots flew around him and shouldered his rifle, scoping in the Ruskies. His hands moved fast, setting the weapon to fully automatic and his finger pulled hard on the trigger. Lead spat out of the mouth of the Assault Rifle. The bullets tore through the Russians and gutted the one with the AK47, focused mostly on him. The Russians' bodies shook and shriveled as shots tore through their insides, spilling their blood on the ice below. The officer and the gunner fell first, then two of the bayonet boys and another one carrying a spade and knife...
His rifle clicked empty...
Adrian looked at the gun and cocked the bolt back, then right at a Russian aiming his rifle toward him and a chill shot up his spine as he saw his head split open, a hole the size of his thumb right between the eyes. The man fell, his blood, skull and brain splattered onto the snow beside his comrades and, finally, the .30 cal roared, gutting through the last enemies with extreme prejudice. Adrian sighed deeply in relief, his tense hands falling limp after he put the AR's strap over his neck, then he walked a staggered, heavy walk toward the dead Russians and glanced at the one with the AK-47... A fucking early time for this weapon to be around, but alas... He picked it up, grabbed the Red's ammo harness and looked back, then yelled "Oi! Lawrence!" to the boy that had threatened him earlier with a Shotgun, then smirked as the tired boy looked toward him and heaved the AK47, throwing it toward him, a weapon which he caught mid-flight and looked at.
"Consider it a gift from your little Romanian Problem." Adrian smirked, to which Jack nodded and said "Thanks..." examining the weapon. He slung it on his back, then nodded to Adrian and said "C'mon. We've set up a temporary HQ at town hall..." panting heavily. Adrian nodded, then started his stroll to follow the American boy and his comrades out of the place. He arranged his glasses, pushing them up onto his nose, then breathed out and held his hand out, to see a snowflake falling onto his hand... He had been so busy with the firefight he didn't even notice snow had begun to fall. He sighed, then nodded and walked beside Jack, rifle cradled in his arms with the safety on.
"Nice work out there... How come you didn't flinch when firing?" Jack asked, looking at him. Adrian nodded and said "I don't know... I just felt like it's them or me." ANd Jack chuckled and said "Said every soldier-boy ever." Ahead of them, the town hall, a bit of a ruin with a part of the roof on the right, collapsed by a shell. The 13 people walked inside, to a toasty, warm air. Adrian looked toward the center of the hall, where a chimney had a fire lit up. Around the main hall of the place, there were a few tables, chairs and extra cans of ammo, as well as grenades and MREs. On the big table, one made of oak, there were several maps overlapping. Of the city, of the Earth and so on and so forth.
Guess these kids were pretty tactical after all...
Translations
Romanian-English
Să vedem... Uniforme ale diviziei 101 din al doilea război mondial... Arme... Vorbesc în Engleză... Fie am ajuns în fața unui grup foarte dedicat de Role-Playeri și reenactment, fie... A doua variantă îmi scapă... - Let's see... World War Two 101st Division uniforms... Weapons as well... They speak English... I'm either in front of a very dedicated Role-Play and Reenactment Group or... I'm not quite sure on the second variant...
Și acum, Valkyria Chronicles... Fir-ar al naibi - And now, Valkyria Chronicles... Fuck me...
Here's the OC file on Adrian. I'll try to get Heinkelboy to give me full personnel files for everyone in Liberty Squad
Name:Adrian Marasti
Nicknames:Little Soldier(By parents), Romanian Problem(By Jack, at times), Mobster Killer(By most people), Wandering Heartbroken(By a few American soldiers)
Age:16(In the Soviet-American War)
Nationality:Romanian, later also American
Looks:Slim build, six foot six. Raven hair and green eyes. Thick, rimless eyeglasses, blue shirt, N7 Hoodie replica from his favorite video game series. Blueish jeans and sneakers. (Prior to being inducted into the 101st and Liberty squad, his usual casual attire), classic Paratrooper uniform with a small Romanian flag bandana wrapped around his left forearm. M2 helmet with camo netting and an ace of spades drawn on its front. Has a gruff voice.
Personality:More introverted, loner, Patriotic(Can be heard at times humming Romanian military songs), friendly and sociable if approached, down to earth, optimistic, very lucky. Tends to mutter stuff in Romanian angrily when trying to fix something or solve a problem. Very smart.
Class:Scout and Shocktrooper
Weapons of choice:Colt M1911 and Romanian Berretta Submachine Gun. Romanian-made AKM-47 brought over thanks to transdimensional rift that sent him to Anchorage.
Bio:Born in Bucharest in 2000, the young boy found himself within a very nice and laid-back family. For nearly 15 years he'd live a normal life, going to school, meeting friends and even befriending a very nice girl whom he'd spend most of his time at school with, until problems came along. His father got involved with the Mobsters in Romania, interlopers without hearts, by borrowing some money to save one of his own brothers from death. He was unable to pay the debt and found himself with the loan sharks at his door... Things soon degenerated and Adrian was left without a family and forced to work to pay the debt. He'd find himself assisting at the stuff the Interlopers' loan sharks were doing with both dread and anger. Wrought with sadness, dismay and hatred for his current 'boss', the boy managed to sneak a gun out of the Interlopers' armory and confronted the leader of the Loan Sharks. The boy only remembered raising the rifle and firing, before a blue light enveloped him and he wound up in Anchorage. Has a strong dislike of anything mob-related.
Likes:Writing fantasy-fiction books, video games, reading and friendly banter, at times singing.
Befriends:Jackson Alexander Lawrence(Commander of the Liberty Squad) Calls him Jackie-boy or Jack, Lara Croft(NCO of the squad) and Augustus 'Cole Train' Cole.
Dislikes:Mobsters, racists, criminals, political debates.
