[Locked to Residents]

[malnosso]

[Appearing on the journals is a written message as follows. A voice option is provided for a computerized reading of the text.]

Attention Luceti Residents.

The following names are being called to participate in a strike against the cultist hordes:
[the names listed here appear on the journal.]

All subjects are required to arrive at the tunnels at 8AM on the 27th of March for deployment. All listed individuals are required to be present. Subjects will then be escorted to TERRACE for battle preparation and further details.

Target will be Region One, a former Malnosso stronghold, presently in cultist hands. Subjects are advised to prepare for combat in forested areas. Further information will be made available at TERRACE. Questions and answers will not be provided at this time.

[The Malnosso will not reply to this message, but everyone is free to use this post to discuss among themselves, whether using voice options on the journal or doing action threads.]

Comments

[greenjacketed]

His fingers tripped down the front of his uniform -- counting up buttons. Christ. Sharpe's mouth opened briefly as he considered sticking with the button-offer. But, ah, it wasn't good enough. Not nearly good enough.

But he'd have to try.

"All of'em?" He indicated all three lines of buttons: the legitimate fastenings and the ornaments too.

[markofthewise]

Sokka looked them over, shrugged, and nodded. "That'll do."

[greenjacketed]

...He pulled a small knife from his belt and started slicing off silver buttons. "And how much more besides to have my own sword sharpened before we leave?"

[markofthewise]

"Tell you what." Sokka picked up one of the silver buttons to examine it. "I'll throw that in with the rest. You can pay me back in the battle."

[greenjacketed]

Unlike the base metals of the enlisted men's buttons, an officer's uniform did sport real silver. Sharpe's face was impassive as he sawed at each bundle of thread, freeing them from his jacket and lining them up on the counter. It had been a year since he'd had to pay such prices for anything, and yet he found himself falling comfortably back into the mindset of a man who had no need for pretty silver trappings.

But some buttons were more painful to hand over than others. Although a few were plain silver, those same plain'uns were buttons he'd had the camp wives sew on to replace the originals. And it was these originals that he would mourn the most. They had a raised design: a bugle horn and a crown, numbered with the familiar 95.

"That, Sokka, is a price I'm more than willing to pay."

[markofthewise]

Sokka felt no pity for the older man who was tearing apart a respectable looking uniform for Sokka's own work. In fact, he was rather satisfied, because he was getting payment for once. Maybe he could string these together for a nice necklace. He could give it to a girl or something. Maybe even Katniss. She'd probably like that.

"You can leave your sword here. I'll bring it with me to the tunnels before we leave tomorrow."

[greenjacketed]

...Oh, if only he would be so lucky as to find his regimental buttons 'round Katniss's neck. That would simple things up right quick, they would. But for now, he shoved them forlornly across the counter. Making room for the great butcher's blade he hauled from his hip.

"Mind you sharpen the back blade too, eh?" It wasn't conventional, really, but Sharpe had ground down the back blade to make the sabre's point symmetrical. The heavy cavalry trooper's sword was nearly a yard of Birmingham steel and while the cavalry it was made for complained constantly that the thing could not keep an edge, Sharpe prized it for its length and its reach. "Sharp so as it don't just slide off a bastard's ribs, eh?"

[markofthewise]

"Relax, Sharpe. I know what I'm doing. It'll be in better shape than it's ever been before." He began to set the weapons aside to work on. "Is that it?"

[greenjacketed]

"That's all," he confirmed. "But like I said, there's no rush on the other blade. The short'un. You just give us a shout when it's finished, eh?"

[markofthewise]

In the meantime, Sokka was counting the silver buttons along the counter, lips moving as he added each one. Finally he nodded.

"I'll let you know."

[greenjacketed]

"Aye, Thunderaxe." He offered up a nod and -- upon collecting his bullets -- retreated swiftly from the shop. He had no reason to stay, nor to talk further. Business was business, and he conducted his with sparse words and certainty.