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Old Guard / Command School / Out of Character / France
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Emotions Legend
[quote][b]Johan (Jun 22, 2001 05:44 a.m.):[/b] CONT'D. The river crossing safely behind them, our heroes were now faced with the issue of finding their meager residence. Some wanted to go left, some right, and some wanted nothing more then to plunge straight ahead up the hill. Ian managed to keep his head, and didn't speak up, although that may have been do also to his forgetting how to make his tongue work. Eventually though, after heated debate, they decided to go right, along the river, through the darkest part of town. The road was black, and the shops closed; remember, this was a Tuesday night - not a lot of partying going on. As they walked, the group became increasingly nervous, drawing closer together. Frenchmen seemed to lurk in every small alleyway, and they ended up walking arm-in-arm-in-arm down the middle of the street, pausing every now and again for a drunken lurch. Finally, another intersection loomed. They were presented with a dilemma. On the one hand, they knew that the dorm was up the hill somewhere, so shouldn't they take the road that lead to the pedestrian stairs? And yet, they also knew that it was still further ahead, so shouldn't they stick to the road until they saw a familiar landmark? The debate raged back and forth, but in the end, someone began to stagger up the stairs, and the rest just naturally followed. At the top of the stairs, this merry band of wanderers [i]*Scene Missing. Interlude Music.........*[/i] were wandering through a lightly wooded park, with some looming apartment complexes visible through the trees. Ian, himself, was beyond caring really where they were any more; he was enjoying the adventure. And yet, his companions seemed anxious to get back, so he figured he might as well help out as best he could. So they wandered aimlessly through the woods, cursing not-so-softly at the occasional tree that got in their way. Finally, the dorms were spotted, their lights a beacon of hope in a dark, French netherworld. With a cry of delight, Ian and his new best friends staggered quickly towards them, heedless of whatever branches, trees and rocks got in their way. This mad dash was punctuated by the occasional cry of "Whups!" and "Ow!" when someone's enthusiasm got the better of them. Suddenly, and without warning, Ian found himself nose-to-brick with a sturdy six-foot stone wall. He found himself remarking on the rudeness of these French structures, always getting in a body's way, when all he wanted to do was get back and go to bed - classes, after all, were going to start in a mere six hours, and he still had an oral presentation to prepare. For a while, they were stymied by the dashed wall. Soon enough, however, the indomitable spirit of the Dietz's rose to the fore, and Ian led the expedition along the wall, looking for a suitable break or place to go over. Somehow the group managed not to lose anybody on this, the most difficult part of the trek, for the woods were thickest by the wall, and there were all kinds of prickly sticky bushes. At long last, they found a nice little box-thing of some sort, about three feet high, that they could use to hop over. Ian, ever the gentleman, let one of the girls go first, to make sure that everything was safe on the other side. After all, if he went first, and something happened to him, who would be left to protect the rest? Fortunately, the way was clear, and they all followed one after the other. On the other side, a great whoop of ecstatic joy went up, and they all ran as fast as they could stumble back to the front, and from there, they hoped, to bed. And yet, what should they see when they got to the front steps, but all the French kids, hanging out and talking and smoking and drinking. They hailed the haggard band cheerfully, and made room for them to join. So with a tired grin, Ian sat down, and gracefully accepted the proffered frosty beverage, and commenced to chat with the Froggies. They talked and talked, and Ian got deeply involved in what he is sure was a highly intellectual and scholarly conversation, if only he could remember what it was about. All the other Americans there were blown away by his oral proficiency, and remarked upon the amazing fact that - unlike as happens for most - his French actually got better as the night progressed. And yet, all good things come to an end. Four o'clock rolled around, and with breakfast a mere four hours away, Ian finally had to drag himself to bed. He made his apologetic goodnights all around, and staggered off, only to find that none of the lights on his floor worked. With a Herculean effort, he somehow managed to get his contacts out and in their little storage container things in the complete and utter darkness, threw on his sleeping shorts, and collapsed on the bed. No sooner had he closed his eyes, it seemed, then light was streaming through the window, his alarm was beeping like a thing possessed, and the room was spinning wildly about him. Slowly, Ian sat up, and got out of bed. It was time to conquer Wednesday.[/quote]
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