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day 3, night. part 2

By: churchwarden on Mar 15th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 8.58 KB | hits: 343 | expires: Never

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>You agree
>”Well, let’s get this over with.” You say with mock anticipation.
>Wait a sec.
>”How can I bring up the memories? That one with me falling through the sky happened by accident.”
>Luna thinks for a minute. Maybe doing this wasn’t such a good idea.
>”A-hah! Now I remember! All you have to do is go up to a door and bring the memory to the forefront of your mind. Then just open the door and we’ll step inside.”
>Ooooooooooook...
>You walk up to one of the oaken doors, close your eyes and try to remember...
>Boot camp... the bus ride over, you pull up to the camp...
>You open up your eyes. The heavy oaken door has changed to the windowed door of a bus. You give the door a slight push.
>It smoothly opens. The telltale hiss of the bus’ air suspension system greets your ears.
>This is it.
>You and Luna step out into the south Californian heat. Fucking Cali.
>Camp Pendleton stretches out before you.
>You’re vision is temporarily interrupted by someone MOVING THROUGH YOU.
>You don’t feel anything, but you still jump out of the line in shock.
>Fucking Magic.
>A gunnery sergeant belts out orders and obscenities at the recruits filing off the bus, they run to comply with hurried nervousness. They line up, and then you spot yourself.
>Fresh faced. Excited to be here.
>”You look so young, Anon.”
>”Funny you should say that.”
>”Hmm?”
>”That was only five years ago.”
>She looks puzzled at this. “Only five? How old were you, Anon?”
>You give her a sly smile. “19.”
>She seems taken aback by this. “You were just a child!”
>”I sure didn’t think so.”
>The scene shifts. Push-ups, while Gunny constantly degrades you
>Someone cracks wise.
>That someone was you.
>Gunny’s boot is on the back of your head in a flash.
>Your head hits the floor. Your nose breaks. Blood streams down your memory’s face.
>Gunney shouts something about being a “Motherfucking Colorado cock juggling wise ass” and how he will make you “clean shit off the toilets with your fucking tongue”.
>Luna looks aghast. Won’t be the last time.
>The memory plays out. Through hand to hand training, live fire drills and endless marches, you finally completed boot camp.
>Your parents couldn’t make it to the ceremony or graduation due to flight cancellations, but Granddad showed up.
.>After the ceremony, granddad came up to you, in his old dress blues with tears in his eyes.
>He put a hand on your shoulder and said softly in your ear, “I watched a boy climb into a bus four months ago. I just watched a man walk down that stage.”
>Then he stepped back and crisply saluted you.
>You returned the salute, trying to hold back tears of pride, but ultimately failing.
>You dropped your salute and hugged him tightly.
>”Oh, come on Anon, don’t go all touchy-feely on me. Upsets muh liver.”
>You both laugh at this jest as the scene fades momentarily.
>”I’d forgotten what he’d said that day.”
>Luna doesn’t say anything. You turn to her and notice tears sparkling in her eyes.
>You put a hand on her back to reassure her.
>The memories go on.
>You and Mark were both accepted into the special forces program and eventually you were shipped out to Afghanistan. You made friends along the way and grew close to your squad. Nothing could beat you.
>Luna continues to watch patiently. She only rarely says anything.
>When you got to Afghanistan, you were disappointed to learn you not fighting immediately.
>You were helping these sheep-fucking dipshits learn how to fight.
>Eventually, you were put on a mission to capture a Taliban radio operators who were holed up in village in the mountains. You needed some for interrogation, so minimal casualties.
>Finally some action!
>The day came, and you snuck in by night, and secured the prisoners. Then the whole town woke up.
>You were wounded that night. RPG fragments to your lower back and left leg.
>Mark covered you and helped you limp to the waiting choppers.
>”Damn your ass is heavy, Anon! Last time I pick up your sorry ass!”
>You chuckle at this.
>Luna smiles
>He’s always got your back. Now you owe him one.
>The scene fades. It’s your 3rd tour of duty. You’ve gotten experience under your belt, and more than a few kills. You’re doing good.
>Convoy. Nothing special. You pass close beside a mountain.
>The humvee in front of you disappears. Inside was all of your squad except you, Mark, and the medic, Akerson.
>Rpg’s crump and ak47’s clatter.
>You all hop out, except for Mark, who’s on the fifty.
>A tense firefight ensues, more than a few casualties, which eventually include Akerson, who took a bullet between the eyes. You can’t take it anymore.
>Something snaps. You no longer care.
>”Anon, what are you doing?!”
>There are only eight or so insurgents firing. A light machinegun and a couple rpg’s in between them. They’re on a rock about 8 feet above the side of the mountain, 150 yards away from the road. They have a good viewpoint and it’s hard to hit them from this cover
>You sprint toward the mountain, not bothering to fire from the hip. Seeing what you’re doing, Mark tries to lay down some covering fire for you.
>Bullets whiz by you, RPGs send up geysers of dirt, but somehow, they all miss you.
>You’re directly beneath where the insurgents are standing on the rock.
>You waste no time chucking a grenade onto the rock. The satisfying explosion tells you it’s time for business.
>You charge up, around, and onto the rock, where 4 insurgents are picking themselves up, a few lay dead.
>You give 3 a burst apiece and they fall.
>You try to shoot the fourth. Weapon jams. Time to do it the old fashioned way.
>He throws down his gun and puts up his hands.
>You stride up to him, rage burning behind your eyes. You draw your Beretta.
>He’s a kid. No more than fifteen
>You manage to make out something about “surrender” and “family” in his stuttering Dari
>You hold the gun to his forehead.
>Tears stream down his cheeks.
>”Pleas-“
>”Die.”
> The gun barks.
>You holster your gun as you turn and walk back down the slope.
>The remaining soldiers cheer you. Even Mark tries to congratulate you. You shake off his hand on your shoulder and take your seat in the Humvee, your face uncaring.
>”Let’s move out.”
>Luna doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t shed a tear either.
>Does she... understand?
>More missions pass, more fighting. More death.
>Your final mission.
>Mark has died.
>Luna is crying again. You’re barely holding it together.
>Your “memory you”, picks himself up and makes his way toward the window of the house you’re in.
>Evening prayers are nearly through.
>It begins again.
>The “real” you opens the door on the far side of the house.
>You step across the threshold, and you’re back in the hallway of door.
>Both of you take a moment to gather yourselves; several long minutes of silence.
>”Do you understand now?”
>She nods. Her horn glows.
>The room swirls around you
>You’re now in a hallway not unlike those in Canterlot Castle.
>”A deal is a deal,” she says quietly.
>She pushes the first door open.
>”Look Luna, I’m doing it!”
>A smaller version of Luna sits in front of you both, while a miniature Celestia’s horn glows.
>The sun slowly rises above the horizon.
>Mini Luna is excited too, bounding around the field they share, far more resembling Pinkie Pie than her future self.
>”This is when we got our cutie marks,” Real Luna explained. “Celestia was always the first to do most things.” She sighs the last words seemingly in recognition of her permanent #2 position.
>Little Luna then tries to raise the sun, and it does indeed move, but nowhere near the distance the Little Celestia did.
>Little Luna looks frustratingly at the sun and scowls.
>”Stupid old sun...”
>Celestia is still jumping blissfully about the field, lost in her own happiness
>Little Luna then looks up at the moon.
>It’s barely noticeable in the now afternoon sky.
>Little Luna’s horn glows
>At first, nothing.
>Little Luna grits her teeth and closes her eyes, trying as hard as she can to move the moon.
>The moon takes off like a shot, going through three night cycles before little Luna knows what’s going on.
>Magic sparkles at her flank, and a crescent moon and stars appear.
>”I did it Tia! I got my cutie mark!”
>Little Luna bounds over to her sister, and they giggle and play like little girls do.
>The moon is still zooming across the sky, going unnoticed either sister.
>You can’t help but laugh at the scene.
>Luna laughs along with you.
>The scene melts to another

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

>You agree
>”Well, let’s get this over with.” You say with mock anticipation. 
>Wait a sec.
>”How can I bring up the memories? That one with me falling through the sky happened by accident.”
>Luna thinks for a minute. Maybe doing this wasn’t such a good idea.
>”A-hah! Now I remember! All you have to do is go up to a door and bring the memory to the forefront of your mind. Then just open the door and we’ll step inside.”
>Ooooooooooook...
>You walk up to one of the oaken  doors, close your eyes and try to remember... 
>Boot  camp... the bus ride over, you pull up to the camp...
>You open up your eyes. The heavy oaken door has changed to the windowed door of a bus. You give the door a slight push.
>It smoothly opens. The telltale hiss of the bus’ air suspension system greets your ears.
>This is it.
>You and Luna step out into the south Californian heat. Fucking Cali.
>Camp Pendleton stretches out before you. 
>You’re vision is temporarily interrupted by someone MOVING THROUGH YOU.
>You don’t feel anything, but you still jump out of the line in shock. 
>Fucking Magic.
>A gunnery sergeant belts out orders and obscenities at the recruits filing off the bus, they run to comply with hurried nervousness. They line up, and then you spot yourself. 
>Fresh faced. Excited to be here.
>”You look so young, Anon.”
>”Funny you should say that.”
>”Hmm?”
>”That was only five years ago.”
>She looks puzzled at this. “Only five? How old were you, Anon?”
>You give her a sly smile. “19.”
>She seems taken aback by this. “You were just a child!”
>”I sure didn’t think so.”
>The scene shifts. Push-ups, while Gunny constantly degrades you
>Someone cracks wise.	
>That someone was you.
>Gunny’s boot is on the back of your head in a flash.
>Your head hits the floor. Your nose breaks. Blood streams down your memory’s face.
>Gunney shouts something about being a “Motherfucking Colorado cock juggling wise ass” and how he will make you “clean shit off the toilets with your fucking tongue”. 
>Luna looks aghast. Won’t be the last time.
>The memory plays out. Through hand to hand training, live fire drills and endless marches, you finally completed boot camp. 
>Your parents couldn’t make it to the ceremony or graduation due to flight cancellations, but Granddad showed up.
.>After the ceremony, granddad came up to you, in his old dress blues with tears in his eyes.
>He put a hand on your shoulder and said softly in your ear, “I watched a boy climb into a bus four months ago. I just watched a man walk down that stage.”
>Then he stepped back and crisply saluted you.
>You returned the salute, trying to hold back tears of pride, but ultimately failing. 
>You dropped your salute and hugged him tightly. 
>”Oh, come on Anon, don’t go all touchy-feely on me. Upsets muh liver.”
>You both laugh at this jest as the scene fades momentarily.
>”I’d forgotten what he’d said that day.”
>Luna doesn’t say anything. You turn to her and notice tears sparkling in her eyes.
>You put a hand on her back to reassure her.
>The memories go on.
>You and Mark were both accepted into the special forces program and eventually you were shipped out to Afghanistan. You made friends along the way and grew close to your squad. Nothing could beat you.
>Luna continues to watch patiently. She only rarely says anything.
>When you got to Afghanistan, you were disappointed to learn you not fighting immediately.
>You were helping these sheep-fucking dipshits learn how to fight.
>Eventually, you were put on a mission to capture a Taliban radio operators who were holed up in village in the mountains. You needed some for interrogation, so minimal casualties.
>Finally some action!
>The day came, and you snuck in by night, and secured the prisoners. Then the whole town woke up.
>You were wounded that night. RPG fragments to your lower back and left leg.
>Mark covered you and helped you limp to the waiting choppers.
>”Damn your ass is heavy, Anon! Last time I pick up your sorry ass!”
>You chuckle at this.
>Luna smiles
>He’s always got your back. Now you owe him one.


>The scene fades. It’s your 3rd tour of duty. You’ve gotten experience under your belt, and more than a few kills. You’re doing good.
>Convoy. Nothing special. You pass close beside a mountain.
>The humvee in front of you disappears. Inside was all of your squad except you, Mark, and the medic, Akerson.
>Rpg’s crump and ak47’s clatter.
>You all hop out, except for Mark, who’s on the fifty.
>A tense firefight ensues, more than a few casualties, which eventually include Akerson, who took a bullet between the eyes. You can’t take it anymore.
>Something snaps. You no longer care.
>”Anon, what are you doing?!”
>There are only eight or so insurgents firing. A light machinegun and a couple rpg’s in between them. They’re on a rock about 8 feet above the side of the mountain, 150 yards away from the road. They have a good viewpoint and it’s hard to hit them from this cover
>You sprint toward the mountain, not bothering to fire from the hip. Seeing what you’re doing, Mark tries to lay down some covering fire for you.
>Bullets whiz by you, RPGs send up geysers of dirt, but somehow, they all miss you. 
>You’re directly beneath where the insurgents are standing on the rock. 
>You waste no time chucking a grenade onto the rock. The satisfying explosion tells you it’s time for business.
>You charge up, around, and onto the rock, where 4 insurgents are picking themselves up, a few lay dead.
>You give 3 a burst apiece and they fall.
>You try to shoot the fourth. Weapon jams. Time to do it the old fashioned way. 
>He throws down his gun and puts up his hands. 
>You stride up to him, rage burning behind your eyes. You draw your Beretta.
>He’s a kid. No more than fifteen
>You manage to make out something about “surrender” and “family” in his stuttering Dari
>You hold the gun to his forehead.
>Tears stream down his cheeks.
>”Pleas-“
>”Die.”
> The gun barks.
>You holster your gun as you turn and walk back down the slope. 
>The remaining soldiers cheer you. Even Mark tries to congratulate you. You shake off his hand on your shoulder and take your seat in the Humvee, your face uncaring.
>”Let’s move out.”
>Luna doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t shed a tear either.
>Does she... understand?
>More missions pass, more fighting. More death. 
>Your final mission.
>Mark has died.
>Luna is crying again. You’re barely holding it together.
>Your “memory you”, picks himself up and makes his way toward the window of the house you’re in.
>Evening prayers are nearly through.
>It begins again.
>The “real” you opens the door on the far side of the house.
>You step across the threshold, and you’re back in the hallway of door.

>Both of you take a moment to gather yourselves; several long minutes of silence.
>”Do you understand now?”
>She nods. Her horn glows.
>The room swirls around you
>You’re now in a hallway not unlike those in Canterlot Castle.
>”A deal is a deal,” she says quietly.
>She pushes the first door open.
>”Look Luna, I’m doing it!”
>A smaller version of Luna sits in front of you both, while a miniature Celestia’s horn glows.
>The sun slowly rises above the horizon.
>Mini Luna is excited too, bounding around the field they share, far more resembling Pinkie Pie than her future self.
>”This is when we got our cutie marks,” Real Luna explained. “Celestia was always the first to do most things.” She sighs the last words seemingly in recognition of her permanent #2 position.
>Little Luna then tries to raise the sun, and it does indeed move, but nowhere near the distance the Little Celestia did.
>Little Luna looks frustratingly at the sun and scowls. 
>”Stupid old sun...”
>Celestia is still jumping blissfully about the field, lost in her own happiness
>Little Luna then looks up at the moon.
>It’s barely noticeable in the now afternoon sky.
>Little Luna’s horn glows
>At first, nothing. 
>Little Luna grits her teeth and closes her eyes, trying as hard as she can to move the moon.
>The moon takes off like a shot, going through three night cycles before little Luna knows what’s going on.
>Magic sparkles at her flank, and a crescent moon and stars appear.
>”I did it Tia! I got my cutie mark!”
>Little Luna bounds over to her sister, and they giggle and play like little girls do.
>The moon is still zooming across the sky, going unnoticed either sister.
>You can’t help but laugh at the scene. 
>Luna laughs along with you.
>The scene melts to another

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