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thesilliestrovingalive · 2 months ago

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Reckless fun in the jungle

It's a fine day beneath the subtropical sun, deep within the scorching heart of a treacherous jungle. A team of elite operatives—Tequila, Marco, Tarma, Eri, Ralf, and Nadia—have been sent to the southern part of the Amazon Rainforest by the Regular Army for a perilous mission. Their objective is to infiltrate and dismantle a ruthless guerrilla group suspected of human trafficking, illicit arms dealing, and narcotics smuggling. Intel suggests a possible alliance with the notorious Ptolemaic Army, a terrorist cult infamous for its brutality and corrupting influence. With precision and skill, Marco and his team must track down the guerrilla group, gather crucial intel on a possible alliance with the Ptolemaic Army, and execute a swift and decisive takedown to shatter the organisation's grip on the region.

The hypervigilant Tequila leads the group with awe-inspiring courage, his grenade launcher at the ready. Marco follows closely behind, his usual stoic demeanour masking a deep longing to return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base and reunite with Perifa, whose dramatic flair he misses dearly. Eri, who had previously instructed her fellow Ptolemaic Army deserters to scout for a secret base and any suspicious activity, stands ready with her trusty explosives at hand.

Ralf is pumped for action, his senses heightened as he drinks in the jungle's symphony of natural sounds and feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Tarma walks alongside Marco, cracking jokes to ease the tension, but Eri and Tequila remain unamused, finding his humour unprofessional. Meanwhile, his queerplatonic partner, Marco, struggles to maintain a straight face, stifling a couple of laughs in an effort to stay focused. Ralf, however, revels in Tarma's lightheartedness, while Nadia giggles, lost in romantic thoughts of her best friend, Trevor.

Before they can proceed further, Marco suggests splitting up, a plan that Tequila endorses. Marco and Eri meticulously outline the stealth mission, assigning Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia to reconnaissance duty, tasked with identifying potential enemies and hostages. Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila will continue searching for the guerrilla group's headquarters. After a brief strategy session, the group divides: Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia head out separately from Tequila, Marco, and Eri.

As they stealthily tread through the jungle, Nadia's focus wanes, and she starts to feel restless, yearning for something more than this mission. Just in time, Ralf spots a secluded hideout, a fallen tree shrouded in dense greenery, where they can lay low for a couple of minutes. The group swiftly settles in, remaining vigilant and on high alert. Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia anxiously await any news from Marco's group via walkie-talkie, hoping to pinpoint the elusive guerrilla group's current location. Ralf and Tarma remain vigilant, scanning their surroundings for potential threats and innocent bystanders, while Nadia's gaze wanders, her attention drawn to the lush jungle foliage and beautiful birds.

As Nadia leans against the tree trunk, she pulls out a blue bubblegum ball from her square-shaped pouch adorned with kitty ears. She pops it into her mouth, chewing and savouring the sweet blueberry flavour. As her gaze continues to wander through the gorgeous sights of the Amazon Rainforest, she spots some enticing swinging vines and her lips curl into a playful smile. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she elbows Tarma…

Tarma jerks slightly, caught off guard by Nadia's elbow to his right arm. He swiftly turns to face her, his head tilted in curiosity, and asks, "Huh? What's up, Nadia?"

She nods towards the hanging vines, her grin growing bigger, and blows an impressive bubble before it pops. Tarma quietly looks at them, adjusting his red-tinted sunglasses and squinting slightly.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Nadia asks, spitting out her chewed-up blueberry bubblegum, as Tarma's smirk forms, accompanied by a low, amused chuckle.

“I so do,” he replies, flashing a charming smirk, his response coming easily and without hesitation.

He watches as Nadia stands up and joyously skips over to the vines, catching Ralf's attention. Ralf raises an eyebrow at Tarma, but before he can say a word, Tarma swiftly stands up, stretches briefly, and confidently strides over to Nadia. As Ralf's gaze follows Tarma to the hanging vines, he grasps the hint and decides to join in on the fun.

Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila are cautiously navigating the jungle, vigilant for any signs of the guerrilla group's members. They're also awaiting crucial intel from Ptolemaic Army deserters regarding the location of the group's headquarters, where their illicit operations are allegedly taking place. To pass the time, Tequila decides to strike up a conversation to break the monotony of the deafening silence. He has a strong hunch that Marco will remain his usual taciturn self, but he's certain that Eri will definitely respond.

“I hope these guys aren't affiliated with those cultish dumbasses from the Serapion Fellowship,” Tequila says, his voice dripping with disdain, his face twisted in a mix of anger and revulsion as he recalls his past run-in with the group.

“You mean the Ptolemaic Army?” Eri asks, her voice laced with disdain, accompanied by a tired scoff. “The Serapion Fellowship was decimated when the Ikari Warriors tore through them.”

“The Ikari Warriors didn't finish the job,” Tequila interjects gruffly, his tone respectful yet firm, catching Eri off guard. “My old comrades and I had to clean up the remnants. I'm telling ya, Ptolemaios and his devotees are like blind, stubborn leeches… Those motherfuckers never know when to quit!”

He pauses, fishing out a cigar from his right cargo pants pocket and lighting it with his metallic blue-green lighter. As he takes a slow drag, he eyes Eri with a hint of uncertainty, "I assume you haven't heard about the Arms Deal Barrage?"

Eri exhales a heavy sigh, her gaze dropping to the jungle soil as she falls into a silent reverie, feeling a tad foolish for nearly overlooking a seemingly insignificant event in the Regular Army’s history.

“Yup! Your Lothario son spilled all the details to me,” she replies, her voice involuntarily tinged with a chill as she crosses her arms, oblivious to the fact that Gimlet has kept a dark secret regarding the Regular Army hidden from her.

“Really?” he says gruffly, his right eyebrow shooting up in skepticism, amused by the thought of Gimlet being her informant on this particular matter.

Marco's attention is suddenly diverted by the distant shouts of thrilled excitement from a girl and a man, who enthusiastically belts out Tarzan's iconic jungle call, echoing through the air. He swiftly interrupts the conversation between Eri and Tequila, clearing his throat awkwardly, his interest piqued by something in the commotion.

“Uhhhmm… Guys, I think we have a problem,” Marco says, his voice low and serious, nodding discreetly towards the source of his concern.

“Tsk! What is—” Eri starts to say, her voice tinged with annoyance, but her words die on her lips as her jaw drops in stunned astonishment at the scene unfolding before her.

“What the fuck is happening?” Tequila exclaims, his voice laced with confusion and incredulity as he glares upward at the reckless spectacle above him, his eyes widening in shock.

Marco, Eri, and Tequila watch in stupefied awe as Nadia, Ralf, and Tarma swing from vine to vine with reckless abandon, their movements eerily reminiscent of carefree, playful monkeys. It's as if the entire jungle has become their personal playground, and they're oblivious to the fact that their unprofessional antics might jeopardise their mission. Tequila can only hope that the three impulsive adventurers don't alert any nearby enemies to their presence. Eri's right eye twitches with suppressed rage, clearly unimpressed by their foolishness. Marco lets out a deep, exasperated sigh, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head in dismay, his gaze cast downward.

“Weeeeeeeeee! This is so much fun!” Nadia squeals, her voice bursting with exuberant joy.

"You're absolutely right, gurl! This shit is amazing!" Ralf exclaims, feeling nostalgic for the good times he had with Clark on mercenary missions in the jungle.

Tarma unleashes a thunderous Tarzan yell, utterly shameless and fearless about attracting the attention of the guerrilla group members. However, his triumphant cry is abruptly cut short when he accidentally swallows a fast-moving insect, causing him to cough violently. He stops swinging from vine to vine and lands on a branch of a kapok tree, gasping for breath and reaching for his water canteen in his citron load-bearing backpack. Nadia can't help but burst out laughing at the unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, Ralf stops by to check on Tarma, concern etched on his face.

"You okay, man?" Ralf asks, gently patting Tarma on the back with a hint of worry in his voice.

Tarma coughs some more, takes a long swig from his canteen, and clears his throat before calmly responding, "It could've been worse..."

Tarma's gaze wanders to Nadia, who’s still swinging with carefree abandon, then drops to Marco, Eri, and Tequila, clustered beneath the kapok tree's sprawling canopy, far below where he and Ralf stand. He swallows hard, the sound of his gulp audibly echoing through the air. Ralf's gaze follows, his expression contorting into an uneasy frown as his sunburst amber-sage eyes slowly lock onto Tarma.

“Maybe we should get back on track…” he suggests, wincing at the prospect of facing Eri's icy stare and scornful disapproval.

The thought of facing Clark's lecture at Sparrowhawk Operations Base makes him wince even more, especially if Eri shares the story of their impulsive escapade. Tarma silently nods and begins to carefully descend the kapok tree, using the vines for support. Ralf closely follows, keeping a watchful eye on Nadia as she continues to swing from vine to vine without a single care in the world. Her swift movements radiate pure joy, accompanied by thrilled shouts, squeals of excitement, and punctuated by a hilarious, off-key Tarzan jungle call.

After a few minutes of climbing down, Tarma and Ralf approach Marco, Eri, and Tequila, their heads hanging low in palpable shame. Marco's disapproving gaze settles on Tarma, who shifts uncomfortably, his hand drifting up to rub his upper arm in a telling sign of nervous humiliation. However, Marco's expression soon softens, his frustration easing as he realises he can't stay angrily disappointed at Tarma forever. Eri is furious with the two, her anger evident in a harsh puff of breath and her crossed arms, which seem to radiate a menacing aura. She's prepared to unleash a scathing tirade, especially once she discovers who sparked this entire debacle. Tequila appears relieved that they didn't attract unwanted attention, but his expression betrays frustration with their decision to slack off.

Luckily, Nadia soon returns from her vine-swinging escapade. However, her excitement is short-lived, a fragile vine snaps beneath her weight, sending her plummeting downwards. She lets out a blood-curdling scream, but Ralf swiftly swoops in, catching her small body in his arms. As he holds her, Nadia's trembling subsides, and she gradually calms down from the fear and exhilaration of her fall. Once she's composed, Ralf carefully sets her down on her feet, offering a reassuring pat on the back as she takes a deep, prolonged breath to calm her nerves. Now, Nadia braces herself for a scathing lecture from Eri, likely amplified by Tequila's disapproval. She fidgets with her thumbs, gazing up at the sky with an unconvincing attempt at feigning innocence.

Eri's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as she growls, "Which one of you thought it was a fucking brilliant idea to act like reckless retards in a situation like this?"

Nadia swiftly deflects the blame, her finger pointing accusingly at Tarma as she twirls her raspberry red locks with her free hand.

"Tarms is the one who started it," she claims, her tone dripping with false nonchalance.

However, Tarma's and Ralf's unflinching, deadpan gazes effectively debunk Nadia's attempt at innocence, their silent incredulity speaking volumes. Eri's hand flashes up, poised to deliver a sharp slap to Nadia's face, but Marco swiftly intervenes, firmly grasping her wrist to prevent the blow. He wisely knows that escalating the tension will only make the volatile situation worse.

Marco's expression turns stoically resolute, his brow furrowing as he sternly suggests, "Let's call a truce for now and concentrate on our mission."

Eri lets out an irritated snarl, ripping her wrist from Marco's grasp and rubbing it lightly. She turns to Tequila, seeking validation, and receives a discreet, affirming nod, signalling his agreement with Marco's suggestion. Whirling around, Eri confronts Tarma, Ralf, and Nadia with a twisted face, mocking them with a scornful snort. Deciding to lecture them later, she spins on her heel and strides away, refocusing on their mission to track down the guerrilla group's base deep in the Amazon Rainforest, hoping it's within a reachable distance. Tequila exhales a tense sigh, hastening to catch up with Eri, while Ralf follows quietly, ready to take on the guerrilla forces. Nadia falls into step behind them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, pouting silently like a sulky child.

Tarma pulls out a cigarette from his saffron-yellow vest, and Marco retrieves a cigar from his left khaki-green army cargo pants pocket, seeking to calm his frazzled nerves. As he approaches his queerplatonic friend, Marco extracts a gilded lighter from his crimson vest pocket and kindly lights both his cigar and Tarma's cigarette.

"Nadia... She never fails to amaze me with the creative ways she manages to stir up bullshit," Marco mutters, shaking his head in amused disapproval.

Tarma's expression turns mischievous as he sarcastically remarks, "I have to admit, she's quite the firecracker."

As he speaks, Tarma accompanies his words with a soft, affectionate squeeze of Marco's right hand, eliciting a gentle smile. Marco basks in the warm, carefree presence of his best friend and recent queerplatonic partner, enjoying Tarma’s breezy attitude on life. He could linger in this cozy moment forever, but he's keenly aware that pressing matters demand their attention.

After a few moments of adoring eye contact, Marco breaks the comfortable silence with a soft clearing of his throat, and suggests, "Shall we get going?"

Tarma exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and responds with a subtle nod, then quickly falls into step beside Marco as they catch up to Eri, Ralf, and Tequila, who are already some distance ahead. The team is eager to complete their mission, apprehend the criminals, and return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base in one piece. Marco looks forward to reuniting with his calico cat, Perifa, and enjoying some snuggle time. Tarma can't wait to get back to restoring Clark's custom-built Velocette MAC motorcycle after this mission is complete.

Nadia is eager to spend quality time with Trevor and challenge him to another round of Dance Dance Revolution. Nadia is also looking forward to indulging in some of Fio's delectable baked goods. Tequila hopes that Red Eye is keeping Gimlet in line, ensuring he doesn't succumb to his typical laziness and womanising ways. Tequila and Eri can't wait to unwind with a well-deserved drink and good company back at the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, while Ralf hopes that Clark is doing well in his absence.

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innb33tween · 2 months ago

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Homeless. Disconnected. Broke. Hungry. Cold. Tired. Alone(except the pooch). Lost. Confused. Suicidal. Angry. Dirty. In Pain - jaw(need medical care. ER discharged me BC there's no one to watch the pup {SD(NES), but lately IDK what to call her because she's had to stop people from trying to sneak up on me(I've had stalkers), in the dark, or try to get into my "tent" at night), foot, neck, sternum(fractured in July), upper back, legs, chest, head. I'm always in pain. I'm on meds that are slowly dwindling. 10 yrs on a narcotic for my pain, and I have a few days left. Oh well. I'll figure it out. I've heard withdrawal sucks. I'm just scared of the pain. I carry the essentials around everywhere I go. I leave my sleeping gear where I'm staying the night, but in constant fear of it being stolen. I mean, I'll "survive" without it, but it'll be hell. The nights are cold. But I can't carry everything all day. I'm not strong enough, and it hurts. We're both hungry. We've been surviving off a 24-hr food cupboard at the church where I can sometimes get a shower. I got one today after a week. Then, there were crackers and PB&J, so I ate. And I felt SO much better. We've both lost weight. The skin on my belly is saggy. Is that what getting old is, or will it go away with time? I've heard it's from dropping weight too quickly. Whoops. We average 10 miles a day, sometimes with only a can of veggies to eat. Even when we have more, it's not enough. I'm always hungry. But there's a big difference between being so hungry that you're not sure if you're legs will make it any further, and you're going to drop or just being grumpy because you want a chinese buffet, taco bell, a triple berry frosty from Wendy's, a reg chicken sandwich from BK, a vanilla and a strawberry shake from Mcd's(both large) and an ice cream cone, PLUS - to dine in a NICE restaurant with melt-in-your-mouth steak, home fries, free refills and frozen margarita, and dessert(S)! Before getting a shower and food, I wanted to stab my pocket knife into my wrist and stain the ground red with anger. Now, I'm still hungry, but not suicidal. The night before, I walked around praying someone would look at me and just offer me food. I wish people saw what I needed when they looked at me. I'm just "that homeless girl with the "vicious" dog." Also, I was sweaty, and I smelled. That's what I hated. I felt like everyone who looked at me could see how filthy I felt. I hate that my self-worth depends on these things. That's probably because most of the constant adults in my life never wanted me to have any. It makes it easier to control, manipulate, and abuse you. You don't fight back as much. You don't tell because you think that no one else cares. But I told. And told and told and told and told and told and told and told.... And now, I'm "missing". I left. I packed up what I could carry and started walking. I made it a little ways south, to another town I'm sort of familiar with and learning quickly. A map and a heavy bag teach quickly. I cannot access my FB, Gmail, I have no phone, no money, no bank account, no resources, no one to lean on. I have a pair of jeans, leggings, capris, shorts, a shirt, a tank top, an under shirt, 3 pairs of socks, 3 bras, flip-flops, and shoes that have a hole(and stink). The blister sucks. I have 3 hoodies. And all of it is filthy. I have a blanket, a tarp, and a shower curtain to try to keep warm. I use a poncho, too. I have a towel and wash cloth and soap, conditioner, tooth paste, tooth brush, and some misc hygiene products. I have a small propane tank, can opener, spoon, fork, knife, cup, and aluminum can. I have a bat. I have a few other things, too. I still have a working Fitbit. That's life. I have a power bank. Headphones for music at the library because music is life for me, and I miss it so much. But, I've dropped a lot. Carry your shit around for a while, and you'll learn what's important or essential. But I'm on a mission.....

#homeless #on a mission #anything for them #what's important #I found me

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