Forums » General Roleplay » Off to war (1x1)

"Don't worry about me." He put his arm around her waist pulling her close to him. He looked into her baby blue eyes, then to her lips. Jack would lean kissing her soft lips gently, his eyes closed. He was certain of his emotions now.

Vivian was about to say something when he pulled her close. Her cheeks turned soft pink and her eyes closed as well as their lips met. She kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around him, slowly at first but then holding him firmly. She would not know when she would next be able to hold him, if ever again. She would only let the kiss stop when he wanted it to. She savored every single moment.

He smirked as he slowly pulled away and pushed a strand of her silky hair back behind her ear. "I needed that." He smiled, still he said still holding her close to him. There was a train whistle in the distance. "U have to go now, but I will send you two letters a week."

(Oops I mistaken some parts in that lol)

(Maybe I should proof read my post haha.. ah I'm just tired.)

Vivian smiled as he pulled back and brushed her hair from her face. "...I did too." she admitted. When the train whistle went off, her grip on Jack tightened momentarily. "...yes. I'll look forward to them." She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then let him go.

As Jack ran to meet with his friends he would turn and yell "I love you Vivian! Oh, and open a flower shop!"

The train ride would be long, but with Johnson and the others it wouldn't be all that bad. Plus he would be thinking of Vivian and himself together, at this he would smile.

Vivian blushed brightly at his yell and she laughed. "I love you too, Jack!" she called, smiling. "And I will. I promise." She chuckled and shook her head some. He was...him. He was Jack. But now she had something to do. She had a flower shop to start and a letter to wait for.

The train was a five hour ride, then they boarded a ship that took four hours to arrive in France. They would gather their muskets and belongings before heading to the military camp. Tents covered tents covered the field for a half mile in every direction, him and Wes would share one. (G'night)

(night!)

Vivian had bought the little shop, and was making a list of everything that needed to be fixed up. Jack was right, it needed some work, but it was good to keep her mind off of his absence. She'd never truly been in love before, and his departure was something terribly depressing. But she refused to shed a single tear, and instead busied herself with the shop. She wanted to have it beautiful for the next time he came back.

The first two days it rained, yet the men still went out to patrol. Jack would sit on his horse, watching the border with his cold blue eyes. The rain streaming off his hat. After an hour he would switch and head back to his tent to write his letter. The thing was is that she would get in three days time, so he would label the dates the best he could.

Dear Vivian,

Today was another rainy day. I sat on my horse watching my fellow men and watched as a small waterfall had formed on my helmet. I certainly hope things will lighten up here. Only two groups have been sent to help in battle so far, but as the battle goes on more head out to take part. Me and Wes have been playing checkers every night to keep ourselves occupied, but we have little free time or rest. I Hope things are going swell in London.

Love jack, March 7th

Vivian was thrilled to have a letter from him. She wrote back eagerly, scarcely able to contain her excitement.

Dear Jack,

I am sorry that you have had such terrible weather. I will try to send our sunshine and soft breezes in your direction. It is a shame that you have little time for yourself, but I am grateful that you can find the time to write to me. Things are going well in London. I have bought the shop and I have spent many hours on it already, doing my best to fix it up and make it proper and suitable to be adorned by my plants. My companions have been gracious enough to lend a hand with my efforts. I have full confidence that when you return, it will be ready for your viewing pleasure.

I already find myself thinking of that time. You have only been gone for a little while, and yet every day brings the hope that you are one day closer to returning to me. Stay in good spirits, Jack. It is one of your most admirable qualities. I hope to hear from you again soon, and I pray for your safety every night.

Love Vivian, March 8th

Jack would not receive the letter until the 11th. But when he got it he was relieved to know she had gotten his. He eagerly opened it. His friends convinced him to read it aloud. But once they were gone he would write.

Dear Vivian,

It's to hear you have got the shop up and are remodeling it. I did say that it needed some work. The smell of gunpowder every day isn't helping. My condition seems to be getting worse. Every two to three days I have an attack, coughing up more and more blood. My chest hurts at a constant. Westley keeps telling me to take leave, but no matter how much I would like to do so I hope you can understand why I can't. Keep writting, I love hearing from you. And as the days grow more dangerous I am always thinking of you.

Love Jack, March 11th

Vivian would always received her letters in private. They were something for her and her alone, and the solomnity of his latest letter had her glad that she did not read her notes aloud. His latest letter troubled her, and she wrote with less happiness than before.

Dear Jack,

I am terribly sorry that your condition is getting worse. While I understand why you must press on, I do urge you to take your friend's suggestion into consideration. If not for yourself, then perhaps for me. You can always return to the field, after all, and perhaps some time in the garden will help your condition. A respite, as it were. The clean air and sunshine may help your health more than you are aware of. I will write to you as long as you write to me, Jack. I think of you every day.

Love Vivian, March 14th

Jack's platoon would be sent to fight. Letter writing would become few within weeks. After two weeks he was able to write to her, but the battle raged around him. At one point during an ambush, Admuund gets shot.

Dear Vivian,

War has taken another victim, one of my men, Admundson, has been shot. This morning he was declared dead to a bullet wound through his right lung. I Pray, for the others and myself that no more deaths occur.

Love Jack, April 1st

Vivian continued to work in the shop, fixing it up so that it was suitable to start truly decorating. It was the best way to get her mind off of the absence of Jack's letters. When one finally came, she was filled with relief.

Dearest Jack,

I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I will pray hard and long for your safety and for the safety of the others. Remember that you fight the good fight. And I am proud of you and all that you have done. I hope reinforcements are sent soon, to give you a chance to come home. To come here, to me, and gain respite. I miss you dearly and I pray always for your wellbeing.

Love Vivian, April 5th

After a long time, a year which had been spent fighting and sending his letters, all Jack had left was Westley and Haplin. But good news, that battle was almost over. The worst news was that Jack was not going to be ready for whats to come. Every 6 hours he would wake, coughing, Westley would try his best to help.

The next morning would come, they would go to the battle field. Jack and Westley jumped into a dug-out as bullets fired continuously at them. "We Have to get back now! The others will come soon after to get rid of the rest of these idiots!" Jack yelled over the gun fire. Wes nodded in approval. They jumped up, but Wes fell as a bullet scratched his leg. Jack ran over grabbing his arm to hoist him up. His face slightly turned, a fatal mistake. He screamed in agony as he placed both hands over his left eye, dropping to his knees. Blood dripped from the openings of his fingers.

Luckily the others had gotten there in time to get the two up and guide them back to the camp. Jack clenched his teeth painfully, still holding his hands to his eye. A bullet had scaved the outer layer of his eye, causing it to cut through a thin fragile area. The bullet had also scratched his cheek bone and brow.

Vivian was getting nervous. The war was almost over, but that was always the most dangerous time. And it had been a while since she had received a letter from Jack. She had her shop ready, all set up and she was waiting to open business. Waiting until she got a letter. The letter. THe letter from Jack, and she prayed it would not be from anyone else.

All she wanted was for Jack to come home alive.

Jack would return to London within the month, a black leather patch would cover his wounded eye. He would look more pale, and tired. His health was getting the better of him. When he returned, the second day Jack went to Vivian's house. He had a mustache and goatee by now, but he had grown kinda fond of it.