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1 Patrol on Gyasta [Flashback] on Mon Aug 20, 2018 3:57 pm




The calamities at this point in time was at it's peak. Those within the three eye'd tribe were actively being forced into internment camps. Though the order came from the World Government only the Marines were assigned with the task of moving them to their new homes. Those assigned with keeping the peace and upholding Justice now were impressing those that had done no wrong. They were the scapegoat. Though it tore up the community of the three eye tribe it brought the other races together. Hate and fear knitting everyone together. This is what Hannibal witnessed and experienced. But unlike his brethren that had to endure this he hid in the best place possible. Within the ranks of the villains. As up to this point he hadn't revealed his race at all. Not because he didn't love him but it was part of a long form of training he was given. Mold his other attributes instead of just relying on his Third Eye.

As back in the day at his home he always had it open; and at times even had close his other two as he felt they were inferior. And he had already reached the point in his training that he could keep it open freely. Until the world changed. It forced him to only use it when he knew he was alone. This caused him extreme pain. Many from his tribe, specifically, had kept their third eye shut for ten years. But a second beyond that for some strange reason gave some harmful effects. It was strange and many didn't understand it. Hannibal however had a guess. Since they did this training to strength it keeping it closed any longer pushed the limits of the training.

"Achoo!" His sneeze echoed through the cold room he sat in. A tissue was place to make sure his germs were trapped within it's material. Drum was the coldest place he had ever been to. It was nothing like the place he grew up. Warmth being in abundance and the worse being strong winds. He'd begin to clear his nose into the tissue as he began to stand up. Holding the tissue with one hand and pushing up with his other to achieve this goal. The first thing he'd do is walk over to the trash can within the room and drop the tissue into it. He'd then head to the bathroom and follow through with his normal morning routine. Relieve self, Wash hands, Brush Teeth, Wash Face, comb hair. If he wanted to take a shower using the dials used in this place he'd toss that into the routine after he relieved himself.

"The not for me...."
Hannibal would mumble to himself as he stuffed both his nostrils with piece of tissue. He needed to stop the leaking. As he spoke he would be putting his Marine uniform on. At this time he was a Lieutenant Junior Grade. He was moving up within the ranks within the Marines despite the moral conflict within him. He despised everything that was going on concerning his Race.

2 Re: Patrol on Gyasta [Flashback] on Mon Aug 20, 2018 4:16 pm




As he reached his door he would sit down. There being somewhat of a step right before the door's entrance. There he had boats and another set of footwear. That footwear being skates. He'd tie the shoe strings of the boots together and sling them over his shoulders as he would put on the skates. The area he was in was a strange one. To get to actually legitimate solid ground, and not ice, you had to skate over some rink. He kinda understood the purpose of it but it took him a solid month to actually be able to skate to a level he wouldn't be laughed at. After his skates were on he stand up and begin to slowly walk over to the door. Before he'd leave out he'd grab the rifle that rested near the door. Today wasn't really a day he was looking forward to. On Drum those that belonged to his clan were placed in a camp a ways from Gyasta. The unrest for their living conditions had reached it's peak. And the Marines were assigned to make sure things didn't get too out of hand. Everyone was advised to to bring their rifle or pistol.

'How am I supposed to even fire this? I didn't wear gloves...I wore mittens. What am I think....I will be damned if I use this.' Hannibal would mumble to himself as he began to gracefully glide across the ice. It took him around five minutes to get to the other side. There was home that was turned into a storage room for the Marines. This is where he would change into his boots. Instead of doing so outside and making himself even sicker. He'd also change his coat. Finding the thickest one that he could. He debated on putting on a face mask, but went against it.

Twenty minutes of trekking through the snow he'd make it to the camp. It was strange that he was the only Marine walking from the town here; but he realized why he was the only one that came at the time he did. Everyone already had arrived. From his distance a lot of them seemed like specks in the distance. Some of their attire blending into the background and only the color of the fur giving them away. Something else gave them away. And that was red dots which Hannibal could only assume was blood in the snow. What he thought they wanted to avoid had already happened.

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