Who: George, War When: July 4, 1863 Where: Gettysburg, Pennsylvania What: There were bodies everywhere. Warnings: Gross things involving bodies and death, the general aftermath of war.
George couldn't get up. He'd been contemplating it for nearly an hour now, ever since the church bells had struck noon, but the idea of forcing himself to his feet seemed impossible. It seemed easier to just lie in the shade of one of the trees on the edge of town, staring out over the expanse of the battlefield and watching as the Union collected the dead.
It felt like someone had taken a knife to his head and carved out a part of his own mind. George could feel the terrible, gaping hole where thousands and thousands of lives had been, snuffed out by bullets and cannons. When he closed his eyes, he saw nothing but bodies. It wasn't much different when he opened his eyes, either. The battlefield was strewn with corpses, rotting away in the hot July sun. The flies were everywhere; when George flitted in and out of the minds of the men collecting the bodies, they were desperately hoping that none of the maggots from the dead were caught in the folds of their own clothes.
When the wind picked up just right, it blew the stench of rot straight towards George. It was enough to make his eyes water and his stomach heave. He'd seen the townsfolk of Gettysburg grow sick at the smell of the rot, especially when they passed by the pile of horse corpses that were being stacked for incineration.
There were things he should be doing. Tending to the wounded, for one. Infection was far more likely to kill a man than a bullet, and the battlefield doctors needed all the help they could get. The soldiers likely needed some kind of morale boost, for although the Union had stopped General Lee's advance, the Confederate army had escaped. The war would go on, for who knew how long, and the soldiers on both sides despaired for it.
For the life of him, though, George couldn't pull himself to his feet. He stared blank-eyed out across the field, feeling like he was caught in some terrible dream.
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[info]warmongering 2011-12-17 04:50 pm (local) (link) Track This Do not think that I came to bring peace on Earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I came to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother.
Those were the words spoken by Jesus to his disciples and those were the words that went around on a wheel through War's mind as he tore his way through the battle.
Sides didn't much matter to War because these were the arguments of mankind. What use was North and South or any other things they chose to label themselves before picking up weapons. All would meet the same judgment on the other side. Kill them all. For the Lord knoweth them that are His.
But now the battle was done and War felt the inevitable lull that came afterward. Soon he would sleep and after such a deathtoll it would be a long sleep. All those souls that had been buzzing within him now were silent. No more cries of WAR! echoed through his skull.
He made his way through the corpses; bodies had never bothered him and the scent of decay one that was always nearby. He barely spared a glance for most of the fallen; their spirits were either Above or Below.
Approaching the Saint beneath the tree, War wiped his bloodied machete against his almost as bloodied trousers.
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[info]the_lancer 2011-12-17 05:01 pm (local) (link) Track This George saw a man approaching him and cleared his throat to give the standard answer of 'No, I'm not wounded, thank you for asking.' But as the man walked closer, George felt the familiar buzz of energy that only came from one being.
"War," George croaked, staring up at the Horseman. "Long time no see."
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[info]warmongering 2011-12-17 05:12 pm (local) (link) Track This War's form was slightly different than it had been the last time he and George had seen each other. He was taller now, more lanky and less muscular, with red hair and a sprinkling of freckles that might have given anyone else a boyish air. There was nothing boyish about the Horseman though.
"I could say the same to you," War said, crouching down on the grass beside George as he put away the knife. There really were quite an impressive number of bodies. Not the best War had seen, but still a respectable amount. "Enjoy yourself?"
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[info]the_lancer 2011-12-17 05:23 pm (local) (link) Track This "I didn't do this," George murmured. Participating in any of this was unthinkable, with the soldiers on both sides clamoring for help in his mind. "I watched and tried not to get shot. I'm assuming you're enjoying this all very much?"
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[info]warmongering 2011-12-17 05:28 pm (local) (link) Track This "I did," War confirmed and his grin was wide and pleased. Then he let it drop and sat down properly on the grass. "Tired now, however. It's exhausting when they all fall silent." A fly buzzed around his head and War swatted it away.
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[info]the_lancer 2011-12-17 05:42 pm (local) (link) Track This If George had possessed the energy to be angry, he might have aimed a kick at War for looking so self-satisfied. Instead, he just rolled over a bit to get a better look at War and asked, "Do you have a place to stay? I've a tent and some supplies set up near the edge of town."
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[info]warmongering 2011-12-17 05:48 pm (local) (link) Track This War nodded at the offer. "I will accept this," War told him. "I have no lodgings here."
A horse whined somewhere and War frowned. "Have you seen my steed?" he asked the saint. "I thought that during the battle I heard him, but... no, probably not." He pulled out a clump of grass. "I haven't had him since I arrived in this country."
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[info]the_lancer 2011-12-17 10:10 pm (local) (link) Track This George pushed himself into a sitting position, running his hands through his hair to knock some of the dirt out. He hoped no one had taken his things, since he hadn't actually been back to his camp since before the battle. But he had soap packed, so he could at least wash the blood off himself. That was more productive than he'd been for most of the day.
"I haven't seen hide or hair of him, unfortunately," George said. "When did you come here? I only just made my way over a few years ago."
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[info]warmongering 2011-12-19 11:24 am (local) (link) Track This "I've been here for some time," War said as he thought about it, trying to remember dates. "Since the Revolutionary War."
He was surprised that George hadn't seen his horse, but he was a little disappointed. Out of the haversack hanging from his shoulder, War pulled out a battered apple and took a bite while holding out another to offer George.
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[info]the_lancer 2011-12-20 02:53 pm (local) (link) Track This George took the apple. He wasn't feeling hungry (he hadn't felt hungry for most of the war), but he knew that he needed to eat, so he took a large bite out of the side.
Mouth full of apple, he used the side of the tree to pull himself to his feet. The world spun around him, but he stayed on his feet.
"I feel it all happening in my head," he confessed without any preamble. "Is this what it's always like for you?"
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[info]warmongering 2012-01-03 12:59 pm (local) (link) Track This War looked out across the field as though considering all those fallen men. "Yes," he said simply. Each and every soul buzzed through his brain and in the middle of the battle War could never feel anything but the pure righteousness of his role.
"Each and every man lives and dies within me," War said, "and then all becomes silent and still." War looked up at George from where he crouched. "Among those men is you. The strongest of the souls within me is yours."
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[info]the_lancer 2012-01-03 01:53 pm (local) (link) Track This George smiled a little at that. It was odd, the things that could make him feel a bit better at times like these.
"If you say so," he said. He glanced over at one of the medical tents. "Though I think Pestilence might be snatching up more of then men than you, no offense. Is she a man too now?" George ducked his head at the oddness of the question. "Er, you know what I mean."