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PostPosted: Sat Aug 14, '10, 10:27 pm
Yeah I'm revealing kinda lot of the background now despite my previous plans. At least I didn't reveal my sheet to you guys.


4th May 1278
Palma, city of Camineet, Marwitt estate

A dark-haired young man in his 18th spring is sitting in the kitchen with a nervous look on his face. At the other side of the kitchen table is sitting his father, reading the daily news. The young man is clearly about to say something but can't get it out.

Time passes with silence. At long last, when his father finishes reading the newspaper, the boy manages to say:

"What is it, son?"
"It's about time we discuss this."
"Get to the point already."

After taking a deep breath, the boy proceeds to explain:

"I'm sick of living in mediocrity, leeching off our relatives and neighbors. I want to start my own career."
From the way the boy said it, it was obvious he had planned the line for long. His father, with slight amusement in his voice, replies:
"And what would that be? You can barely read."
"Dad, I want to join the military."
"You? Oh come on. Just because you can shoot at target boards as a hobby doesn't make you any more acceptable in the army than the rest of us. Have you any idea how strict they are with who they take?"
"But... I already sent the application..."
"Revo, listen now. You'd need recommendations. The family you come from will achieve you none."
"Heh... so because everyone in this family generations back are losers, means my hopes are lost? Nice try dad... but this job is mine." The boy's attempt at hiding his upsetness was a complete failure.
"I saw you mail that letter five days ago, I just didn't know what it was. If you'd been accepted, they would've replied already. So stop your stupid dreaming and just live with it, boy."

The young man's face turned red. Father's last remark was going too far. He got up from the table and shouted:
"Fine! You rot here as long as you want. Good riddance!"

He ran to his room where he still in rage packed his bags with his most important belongings, first grabbing his rifle. In a moment he was back in kitchen with a poorly packed bag. His mother had been called to the kitchen by his yelling. To her he didn't even offer goodbye as he opened the door and left the house.

"...what's Revo doing, honey?"
"Puberty, dear. Don't worry, he'll return by tomorrow morning at most."

But he did not return tomorrow.

Last edited by Solar on Sun Aug 15, '10, 7:48 pm, edited 7 times in total.

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