The Second Great War RPG European Theater
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The site of Hitler's infamous Blitzes, London is also a bustling Allied city. The constant German attempts to destroy it have only strengthened the British people's resolve to win the war.

7/30/2008 #1

Laura tucked her hands into the pockets of her sweater as she made her way home from a typical work-day at the library. She caught sight of an elderly couple holding hands across the street as they walked and her heart constricted. What must it be like, she wondered, to have someone to walk with? Just to walk from place-to-place with? They began to speak and she wondered how they managed to find things to talk about, especially after having spent so many years together! After five minutes of talking to a person, Laura could never think of anything else to say. Looking about her, Laura decided that the couple must be discussing the weather, or perhaps asking each other what to eat for dinner. She looked away when she realized that she was smiling in a wistful, longing way, and cleared her throat, readjusting her spectacles.

She recited all of the things she was grateful for as she climbed the stairs to her flat, just as Sister Margaretta had told her to do at the boarding school when she would pity herself. When she got inside her room, she unwound the scarf from her neck and hung it, along with her sweater, up in the closet before going out onto her balcony. "Kitty!" she called gently, "Miss Kitty!"

A silver calico meowed from the corner in reply and Laura stooped down to fill a small bowl with dry cat food and pat the feline on the head. "There you are, dear," she said.

7/30/2008 #2

A knock brought Laura out to her door. Someone must be lost, she decided, because she'd payed her bills and no one ever came to say hello to her. She smoothed out her already-impeccable hair and ran a hand over her blouse and skirt before opening the door.

A man stood before her, with tufts of gray hair peeping out from under his tweed hat and a bushy mustache concealing his upper lip. He removed his hat and smiled familiarly. "Miss Westerfield, isn't it?"

Laura blinked in surprise. "Yes.... How may I help you?"

The man looked over himself briefly. "Am I so old you don't even recognize me anymore?" His eyes twinkled when he looked back up at her.

Laura searched her memory, but couldn't come up with any recollection of this man in her past. "Please," she said, steppping back and opening her door wider, "won't you come in?"

"Well, thank you, dear." The man wiped his shoes on her doormat before entering and looking around the room casually until Laura closed the front door.

"Won't you have a seat?" Laura invited, motioning toward the sofa with a gentle wave of her hand.

The man's face was suddenly changed. Smiles and familiarity were gone, replaced with caution and seriousness. His eyes continued to glance around the room, now more inspecting than curious, as he held up a badge to Laura's face. "Tyler Smithson," he said monotonously. "I work with the British SIS, office MI-6."

Laura's heart began to palpitate. What would the Secret Intelligence Service want with her? Had she done something wrong? "Oh," was all she could think to say.

Mr. Smithson walked about the room, continuing to look over all the walls and furniture. There were two, small photographs on the mantelpiece- Laura's mother and father- and Mr. Smithson paused to look at these. He grunted before turning to Laura and holding his hands together behind his back. "I have taken the liberty to look through your files. You are Laura Anne Westerfield, age 21, born in Portsmouth, England on October second, 1920. Parents: Walter and Kate Westerfield, killed in a car accident in 1927. You attended St. Anne's school for girls from 1930 to 1938 and you now work at the Library on King Street."

Laura swallowed, couldn't speak (or think of what to say if she could speak), and nodded.

Mr. Smithson nodded back. "You, on the other hand, know nothing whatsoever about me. Unfortunately, I am not here to fix that." He flipped through the pages of a book sitting on the coffee table as he continued. "You speak fluent French, I understand."

Again, Laura nodded. "Yes, Sir," she said weakly.

Smithson closed the book with a soft snap and came to stand directly in front of Laura- so close that she was sure their noses would touch. "What I am about to tell you you must keep in the strictest confidence. Is that understood? No one must know that I was ever here or who I am."

Again, Laura nodded.

"We are in need of French translators at the MI-6 Office."

"MI-6?" Laura managed to ask.

"Military Intelligence," he clarified. "We're getting reports in all the time from France and don't have enough French translators to keep up. Your service would be very much appreciated."

Laura swallowed. "If I accept?"

Smithson handed her a thick folder. "Then you fill these out here and now and await further instruction."

"If I don't?"

"Then I leave now, with your word that you won't tell ANYONE about this meeting."

Laura stepped back and took a deep breath. What did she have to lose? She opened up the folder, took it to the table, and began.

7/31/2008 #3
Zina Nevirone

(Mother's House.)

Maria sat and watched the children. Most of them were sickly and none of them below ten. They all praticallt looked afterthemselves, but she provided the roof over there heads..the food on their table came from the families along the street who took pity on them.

8/2/2008 #4

Laura smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she said graciously. "You are American, are you not?"

9/12/2008 #5
disused account

"Yes ma'am' I'm a yank," he said. He smiled. "Nice to meet you too."

9/12/2008 #6

Laura blushed and was again surprised to hear herself laughing. "Do you still use such titles in the United States?"

9/12/2008 #7
disused account

"A little."

9/12/2008 #8

Laura walked in silence then, unsure what to say next. How did people do this? Why was it so hard for her? Should she say something else? Was it alright to merely walk in silence? She tried to come up with good questions she could ask him. How personal should the questions be? She finally decided that she preferred to say nothing at all than to say the wrong thing. Soon they were standing in front of the library.

9/12/2008 #9
disused account

He again offered a warm smile. “Why did you choose to be an interrupter?”

9/12/2008 #10

"I didn't... choose it." She lowered her voice more (which left it just above a whisper), fearing that someone might overhear. "I was asked to be an interpretor."

9/12/2008 #11
disused account

"Do you like it?"

9/12/2008 #12

"Yes. It... adds demention to my life."

9/12/2008 #13
disused account

"Good. You don't do this very offten do you?"

9/12/2008 #14

"Do what?"

9/12/2008 #15
disused account

"Go out."

9/12/2008 #16

"Oh." Laura laughed nervously. Was it really so obvious? A blush rose to her cheeks. "I... go out...." She thought more and added honestly, "Not with people usually." She bit her lip as she nervously peered around the corner and went up on her toes, as if that would better help her to see the cab coming.

9/15/2008 #17
disused account

He waited trying to keep the conversation going. “What are you in the mood for?”

9/15/2008 #18

Laura looked at him quizzically. "Do you mean to ask what kind of food I'm hungry for?"

9/15/2008 #19
disused account

He nodded. "Why what were you thinking I meant?"

9/15/2008 #20

"I wasn't sure." She blushed and went on. "In answer to your question, I think I'd like..." nothing sounded good right now, with her nerves churning her stomach, so she said the first thing that came to her head, "Hot Cocoa...."

9/15/2008 #21
disused account

He licked his lips. “Sounds alright with a side of beef,’ he said with a solf laughed.

9/15/2008 #22

"Oh yes, of course." The cab pulled up and Laura smiled. "I haven't ridden in one of these for a while," she said.

9/15/2008 #23
disused account

He smiled got in, the cab pulled in front of a café he head heard about.

9/15/2008 #24

"I've never actually... eaten here," Laura admitted as she got out of the cab.

9/15/2008 #25
disused account

"Same here."

9/16/2008 #26

They walked into the restaurant. It was small, but not particularly crowded at the moment. Laura hoped that Charlie would take it from there, since the dinner had been his idea in the first place and she'd never eaten out before.

9/16/2008 #27
disused account

Charlie seated himself at the table. “Get whatever you like.”

9/16/2008 #28

Raucous laughter filled the small restaurant as the door burst open and a pilot, obvious by his gray blue service dress, hat cocked at a jaunty angle over one eye. On either arm was a tall pretty girl, in slightly risqué but fashionable dresses, one a blonde, the other a red head, both a little tipsy but not yet drunk. The pilot winked at the host, who could only envy the pilot’s good fortune, and led them to a table.

Mickey Giarelli recognized the slender, shy little brunette from H.Q. and stopped short, grinning at her, “hey doll-face,” he nodded at her date and extended a hand, “Lt. Giarelli, say you’re a yank ain’t you? Heck! The Brits are worried about Krauts while us Americans invading.” He laughed.

9/16/2008 #29

Laura looked at her hands fidgeting in her lap to hide her frown. It was that scandalous American rogue. It made Laura blush just to think of the two girls flanking him. She wished she'd chosen somewhere else to eat.

9/16/2008 #30
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