Post by arkiuz on Mar 31, 2013 0:04:02 GMT -5
A no-mans land had developed between the opposing factions that served as a border, rather the invisible lines drawn on maps and posted on road signs. Now, thick blankets of shattered barb wire and deep pockets punctuated the once fertile lands. Toward Germany, the Federation flag fluttered in the breeze. Its opposite, the Zeon flag fluttered just as hard. Between them, Mobile Suits of all kind and enough ammunition to kill every man, woman and child left in Poland. If there were in fact any left.
Arkiuz sat in the make-shift pit dug in for his Loto. The transformable guntank sat idle in the dirt, it's twin cannons pointed at nothing in particular. From the day he and it arrived, nothing changed. He counted six days so far. Not that he was ungrateful. Nothing happening meant that no shells were falling and no bullets were whistling past his head. It hadn't been like this a mere eight days, two more than his current count. The previous events left the shattered and twisted mess of steel the engineers were attempting to pull away from the no-mans land and both sides appeared to allow the other the grace of recovering the dead.
He wore the suit he'd worn for several days. It was beginning to itch, frankly. Getting clothes, or anything, washed out here was almost impossible and the place was beginning to stink. Or perhaps it always stunk and Arkiuz was just adding to it. He pushed the thought aside and pulled the binoculars up to his face. A quick glimpse across the yard should be fine. Everyone had done it at some point since he arrived. And it was excellent at passing the time.
Arkiuz sat in the make-shift pit dug in for his Loto. The transformable guntank sat idle in the dirt, it's twin cannons pointed at nothing in particular. From the day he and it arrived, nothing changed. He counted six days so far. Not that he was ungrateful. Nothing happening meant that no shells were falling and no bullets were whistling past his head. It hadn't been like this a mere eight days, two more than his current count. The previous events left the shattered and twisted mess of steel the engineers were attempting to pull away from the no-mans land and both sides appeared to allow the other the grace of recovering the dead.
He wore the suit he'd worn for several days. It was beginning to itch, frankly. Getting clothes, or anything, washed out here was almost impossible and the place was beginning to stink. Or perhaps it always stunk and Arkiuz was just adding to it. He pushed the thought aside and pulled the binoculars up to his face. A quick glimpse across the yard should be fine. Everyone had done it at some point since he arrived. And it was excellent at passing the time.