Post by Mike Eltman on Jan 30, 2015 12:04:35 GMT -5
Location - France
Background - Item has seen several wars (all unsuccessful)
Item - Rifle
I was walking along the, how you say, street en route to the residence of my succulent peach, my Mademoiselle Du'Voire, My fiancée, on as normal a day as one could expect, travelling the two kilometers from mine to hers on foot. My attire was all fresh out of my armoire, and I was showered and excited to take Mademoiselle to the restaurant, where we had planned to share pastries and lattes by the window of her favorite location, Le' Petit Café. However, on arriving at her home, I found that she was not yet prepared to leave, and so I exercised my chivalry by waiting outside for her to finish dressing. During that reverie, I sat on the front steps staring off into space. I was not conscious of what was in front of me until I came back in to focus. Appended to the trunk of one of the trees in the sidewalk, a small, black, rusted firearm, a rifle, rested. I glanced to the left and the right to search for its owner, but none could be found. So I passed over to it to examine it more closely. The tree had grown around it to the point at which it was ingrained, however, there was a small compartment in the stock, which was still visible, and it looked yet unopened. Evidence existed of several attempts, and eventual abandonment at its resting spot. I could also detect that every try had been an attempt to pry it open by force. I decided to try my hand at it as well. Though instead of prying, I pushed the edge of the compartment to test its looseness. Miraculously, the patch clicked in and opened out, revealing a little hollow and a scrap of paper. It read:
Been in Six wars , lived through Five
And Many'd wish me still alive.
But though I'm dead, I regret not
The things I'm known for, rest forgot.
In everything that you endure,
Your family becomes more sure.
And all the bonds you helped to make,
Will be with you beyond the break.
For everything you value dear,
Until you die, You keep it near.
Protect it with your life, dear son,
Thus every war that's lost is won.
With tears in my eyes, I stood again, wiping them clean. I carefully folded the paper and placed it in my pocket with intentions to later deliver it to the address on the back of the page. Mademoiselle snuck up behind me as I did.
"Pietre? What is wrong," she said, detecting my tears.
I turned around to meet her gaze, and after wiping my Surface MEDIA again, responded in part.
"Nothing, my dear. Let's go to the Café."
As we walked away, I held her hand in mine more warmly than ever before.
Background - Item has seen several wars (all unsuccessful)
Item - Rifle
I was walking along the, how you say, street en route to the residence of my succulent peach, my Mademoiselle Du'Voire, My fiancée, on as normal a day as one could expect, travelling the two kilometers from mine to hers on foot. My attire was all fresh out of my armoire, and I was showered and excited to take Mademoiselle to the restaurant, where we had planned to share pastries and lattes by the window of her favorite location, Le' Petit Café. However, on arriving at her home, I found that she was not yet prepared to leave, and so I exercised my chivalry by waiting outside for her to finish dressing. During that reverie, I sat on the front steps staring off into space. I was not conscious of what was in front of me until I came back in to focus. Appended to the trunk of one of the trees in the sidewalk, a small, black, rusted firearm, a rifle, rested. I glanced to the left and the right to search for its owner, but none could be found. So I passed over to it to examine it more closely. The tree had grown around it to the point at which it was ingrained, however, there was a small compartment in the stock, which was still visible, and it looked yet unopened. Evidence existed of several attempts, and eventual abandonment at its resting spot. I could also detect that every try had been an attempt to pry it open by force. I decided to try my hand at it as well. Though instead of prying, I pushed the edge of the compartment to test its looseness. Miraculously, the patch clicked in and opened out, revealing a little hollow and a scrap of paper. It read:
Been in Six wars , lived through Five
And Many'd wish me still alive.
But though I'm dead, I regret not
The things I'm known for, rest forgot.
In everything that you endure,
Your family becomes more sure.
And all the bonds you helped to make,
Will be with you beyond the break.
For everything you value dear,
Until you die, You keep it near.
Protect it with your life, dear son,
Thus every war that's lost is won.
With tears in my eyes, I stood again, wiping them clean. I carefully folded the paper and placed it in my pocket with intentions to later deliver it to the address on the back of the page. Mademoiselle snuck up behind me as I did.
"Pietre? What is wrong," she said, detecting my tears.
I turned around to meet her gaze, and after wiping my Surface MEDIA again, responded in part.
"Nothing, my dear. Let's go to the Café."
As we walked away, I held her hand in mine more warmly than ever before.