Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20180527004826/@comment-7262318-20180529203537

Christopher loaded the last of his bullets into the magazine and carefully set it on the table near his window. He grabbed his rifle and looked down the scope, out the window, putting the crosshair on each individual soldier. He wanted to make sure that his shots were clear.

"They're getting anxious," Chris said, continuing to look through the scope. He could see the Americans looking at each other, talking, frowning, probably asking what they were going to do about the protestors. "Everyone, be ready. This looks like its about to get ugly."

--

Call me down from the fuckin' Front for this...

Sarge watched the angry, yelling, screaming canadian folks with a small bit of sympathy. He knew the heartbreak that these people were feeling. The suffering, the starvation. Everyone who wasn't an American soldier he knew, was going throught he same things. And here he was having to tell them to shut up and starve. He liked life better when all he had to do was line up some communist fucks and mow them down. Now he stood here, seeing the fruit of his labor; nothing but anger and suffering.

"Steady, men... Don't let them intimidate you," Sarge warned. "All they've got is their words."