greenjacketed | SHARPE'S TEA ⚔ WRITTEN | VOICE

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SHARPE'S TEA ⚔ WRITTEN | VOICE | ACTION

[ he's snug in a corner of the tea shop, with both a brew and a book in hand. the tea is strong; it's uncreamed and unsweetened, and yet it still somehow lacks the bite he's grown accustomed to through flanders, portugal, and spain. instead, this mug is as lightly spiced as the mugs he'd nursed on lonely nights in india. he'd been so much younger, then. and so much more foolish.

another sip and then it's time to get to it. in practice, his message has an intended audince of very few. but fear of his own sentimentality demands that he not approach anyone directly. and so he writes publicly, his script slanty and rough. unpracticed. it takes him a long time to carve out even a brief sentence: ]

Won't be around for a few days --- heading out, took the bloody shilling, got orders to march, &ct.
-- MJR R. SHARPE

[ he loops his pencil 'round the ampersand a few more times, chagrined by its childish slopes. he's no writer. not by any man's account. he's a soldier, he thinks. he knows when to kill and when not to kill, although that line was painfully blurred on the just-passed draft. he should know how to follow orders and protect the colours. but what on earth is a soldiering man to do with orders he didn't understand and no colours to speak of? it gives him a notion. a question, at least.

switching to voice: ] I suppose the village does not have a flag of its own, eh? Don't seeem proper. Perhaps it would've done no good in that last [ shit-hole/dungheap/disaster ] battle. But in future...?

[ he hesitates. he waits. and he lives his day as anxiously as any other day spent waiting to be deployed. a mission, this time? aye. perhaps it'll sooth his nerves and erase from his mind the bloody great cock-up of vaskoth. finally -- if the journal or the tea-shop won't do, feel free to encounter him elsewhere. he's bound to be in good spirits come the evening -- but he bloody well won't drink a drop. not the night before. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am fairly sure there is no flag.

But that does not mean there cannot be a flag!

Aye. If so, it's a fact I've a mind to chance. Nothing elaborate -- but we ought to have something.

Indeed, I am completely agreeing with your words, sir.

This village should have a flag, especially since it is common for these scientists to send us out to fight horrific battles against brain eating undead beings.

...You were out there on that field as well, then?

Aye! It has been far from pleasant but I have been able to make some impressive traps.

Eventually I passed away. That has been a bummer of a great kind.

[ christ. a dead'un. that unsettles him.

more distantly: ] Traps of what sort?

Traps of a very awesome sort!

[Loki grins.]

With ropes and nets, mostly.

Clever, lad. [ though he wonders how well it had served him if he'd died anyway. ] Are traps generally your thing?

I shall tell you a secret, stranger...

[Oh wait...the written message.]

...I mean Major Sharpe. You are a major, right? Right, right. Of course I shall refrain from revealing all my horrible secrets, yet I can tell that it is very important for a god of mischief to be extremely smart.

Traps are one of my things. I also have other things. Important things and the like, you see?

I hear you say it but it's hardly a thing to be trusted, aye? If ever man what said he was properly clever truly was, then...

Well -- then there wouldn't be 'nough to go round to the rest of us.

[The major isn't seeing it but Loki is raising his eyebrows at that.]

I am very trustworthy. That is not a lie.

[He huffs and pouts. Why do people always question such things?]

And there are stupid men and clever men. I am a clever one. I take it you are a clever man as well?

Nah. [ though it's hard to tell whether he's lying or whether he truly believes he isn't clever. ] Me? I'm just a soldier.

[Loki is just...well, one could call it 'trolling'.]

A soldier? But isn't a major higher in rank?

It's respectable. [ he admits, although he craves climbing higher. ] But we don't all start out that way, do we?

Aye! One always starts at the bottom unless one knows people at the top. Things tend to go faster that way, you see?

Or one could be terribly good at the art of sucking up to another. Then they suck their way upwards.

Or a man could work hard.

[ and sacrifice so much for advancement. ]

Yes. That is my favorite sentiment. That of hard, hard work. I am not very fond of those who choose to suck up.

Suck up, pay up, or buck up. Those are the three options in the British Army, lad.

[Loki repeats those words. Such a wonderful phrase.]

Suck up, pay up, or buck up.

Basically it tells you to either excel at the art of sucking up to superiors, convince them by offering them gold or just work very,very hard, yes?

[Ah! Of course! Loki should've noticed that earlier.]

That means you serve the queen, yes?

King, lad. I serve the king.

No, no, no. England has a queen. The world of online has told me so.

King George. [ he insists. stubbornly. ] The Third.

[ of course, there was indeed a regency in place. it was a a little complicated. ]

I see, I see. You are from the past, yes?

...I'm from the bloody present.

Would the present be bloody? Well, there is quite some bloodshed on Midgard.

That is an accurate description, I think.

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