Technically OC...
Sooo... I actually write as a hobby, but I always wonder if what I write is worth reading.
I never get enough feedback, so I'm throwing my balls out on the line here, and doing what any reasonable person would do, and letting people on the internet critique it. This is the first half of a short story, and it's like 739 words long; I have a few chapters written, but if this doesn't catch anyone's attention, the rest won't.
As a sort of incentive, I will write a haiku for each person who has something useful to say, positive or negative. Something like that.
Anyway, go for it; tear it apart, gentlemen.
I never get enough feedback, so I'm throwing my balls out on the line here, and doing what any reasonable person would do, and letting people on the internet critique it. This is the first half of a short story, and it's like 739 words long; I have a few chapters written, but if this doesn't catch anyone's attention, the rest won't.
As a sort of incentive, I will write a haiku for each person who has something useful to say, positive or negative. Something like that.
Anyway, go for it; tear it apart, gentlemen.
Preparations
The sun started sinking past the horizon. Failing light shrouded the camp in long shadows, thick and dark like the oil she was so tired of seeing. She imagined the other Renegade Oilers felt the same. Ellie sighed softly, staring into the fire from her seat on a log. Tonight was going to be dangerous, and all she wanted to do was let her mind wander until the mission started.
A leg stepped over the log, followed by a person settling in next to her. She turned, her brunette hair covered by a handkerchief moving with her. The joker sat down beside her, smiling devilishly below spiked blond hair and hazel orbs. She rolled her ice blue eyes, turning her focus back towards the fire. Maybe she would wait to slip into daydreams. Company wouldn't kill her.
“What'd you manage this time, Thomas?”
A quiet laugh escaped him, and he held up shishkebabs. “I may or may not have conned Whitaker out of an extra helping of tonight's dinner, and I represent the remark.” He held one of them up towards her, freshly cooked scent wafting through the air. “Want some?”
Ellie smiled a bit, turning to face him and taking one of the wooden spears from his hand.
“I think you mean ‘resent,’” she poked.
He shrugged. “I think what I said was plenty accurate.” He took a bite out of one of the vegetables and leaned back, setting his hand on the bark of their makeshift bench.
The food reminded her that she hadn't eaten much that day. She felt uncomfortable having anything before going out on any sortie, but decided that a few bites couldn't hurt. As she ate, she drifted in and out of listening to Thomas, who had started talking about the mechanical problems they were having at the moment. For now, the steam generator they had was keeping the capacitors charged, but the pressure kept dropping; something about the cracked heat stones they had. Radios were important to keep on and tuned, to track of Austere movements. They had to stay a step ahead of their technologically superior enemy, or risk complete destruction. There wasn't much of an inbetween.
Ellie's blue eyes traced a path up through the fire, spotting Darius at a distance across the flames, near one of the tents. She swallowed hard, and then glanced down quickly. Taking a short time to bolster her will, she looked back up towards him again. He was talking to Helen, his lips tracing some conversation she couldn't hear. Helen folded her arms across her chest, returning words. Ellie studied them both for a minute as Thomas continued to talk. Helen was about the same height as Ellie, but had a face of angular beauty, adorned with fierce green eyes. Her black hair was cropped short, exposing the grace of her strong neck. Ellie’s eyes shifted slightly and looked at Darius. His hair was long, pulled back in a ponytail, black as well. It looked softer than Helen's, though, the thought of which caused Ellie to grin furtively. His eyes, hazel like Thomas', seemed to warm his face every time she’d looked at him, adding to the charm. However, his looks went to belie his nature as a cold and gifted tactician.
She’d seen his ruthless fury on the battlefield before.
“Hey! Are you paying attention?”
Thomas leaned over towards Ellie, his posture having shifted to his foot on the bench, elbow on his knee, chin resting on the back of his wrist, and fingers rolling the small wooden spear of his finished meal in annoyance. He followed her gaze to the other two, who were finishing up their talk. Ellie turned back at the same time Thomas did, and the corner of his mouth twisted.
“What, are you worried about tonight?”
She blinked as thoughts of the present returned to her. “Oh! No. I mean, I trust Darius.”
Thomas looked off to the side, dropping his hand. “Yeah. I guess he knows what he's doing.” Ellie looked into the fire. The wood crackled and popped, flinging small embers. Conversations through the camp played out in the background, muted.
After sitting in relative silence for a few seconds, he stood.
“Anyway. I have a project to finish up before we head out. I'll catch up with you later.”
She nodded silently, listening to him as he left her with her thoughts once more.
(Enlarge)
There are armored suits later. I liek tehm.
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