#screaming eagles (Albert Saltern)

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“I wasn’t aware the Morningstar family was so…fuckin’ messy. None of this shit was in the book, I can tell you that much.”

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“Contubernia 12-9 arriving on scene.”

A man’s voice, the squelch of a radio. Streams of light through the dust and smoke, the silhouettes of armored figures picking their way across the rubble, sliding down the edge of the crater and into her line of sight.

“Received. Investigating, we’ll report to the Praetor when we get back. Saltern out.”

Legionnaires, likely from the Embassy Garrison. Members of the 778th, mortal souls enlisted in the Long War.

One of the beams of light settles on Sera’s form, and there is a sharp intake of breath, the sound intensified through the man’s helmets toxin-filters.

“Lady Sera?”

Sera groaned, coughing once the dust settled. Everything hurt from her none too gentle 'landing.'

Opening her eyes, she looked to her side. Her halo laid broken and bereft of its glow. She supposed she wouldn't be needing it anymore. Now to figure out her next steps.

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To the members of the 778th, what was the most surprising thing about the Afterlife? Or what was the most difficult to get used to after dying?

What was the most surprising thing about the afterlife?

Albert: “How well everyone gets along, I ‘spose. I mean, it makes sense when you take even half a second to think about it, but I died in nineteen-forty-four.

The whole world was at war, evil was everywhere, even where we were all told it wasn’t. I mean, shit man, the army was still segregated when I was alive, if you can believe that. If you were black or Japanese you got shunted into separate units led by white officers, for the most part if you were Chinese or Hispanic you were ‘white enough’ to serve in white units, I just…I grew up in that shit, but I guess the war was really where I started questioning just how backward it all really was.

There was this one unit, tankers, the 761st, called themselves the Black Panthers cause of their emblem. We were bogged down in Bastogne, surrounded by a German infantry division and two fuckin’ Panzer divisions. Just waitin’ to die. The 761st and 87th rolled in and smashed ‘em to pieces. Saved our lives. They had eleven tanks, lost nine of em, and all I could think was ‘how in Gods name ain’t these men good enough to serve alongside us?’

Shit, well, died a few months after that anyway. Ain’t like that here, none of it. Equals is equals, brothers and sisters in Christ. My Centurion’s a woman, no one gives a shit. It’s good like that.”

Ramirez: “The calm, I think. While I was alive everyone was always scared, or looking for something to be scared of. Even before 9/11, and any of the newer arrivals can tell you how fucked pretty much everything’s been after that. Fucking everybody was scared, everybody was baying for blood, didn’t matter whose.

It’s calm here. Peaceful, you know? Yeah, I’m a soldier, but it’s not…the same. I don’t have to wonder if the guy on the other side of my rifle is a bad guy or if I’m just some asshole who invaded his home. I can see it, I can sense it, and when I get home I’m not hearing every second about how bad things are, how afraid everyone is, how we’re gonna pay the bills or feed the kids or fill up the gas tank. I do what I do because it’s right, and I know it is, not because some rich fuck is telling me it’s my patriotic duty to pop a round into the skull of some guy who’s pissed we ran over his kid with a tank.”

Alistair: “Technology. I was martyred in the Year of Our Lord Twelve-Oh-Nine. The horse was the most advanced form of travel in the world and it was not known that small organisms caused diseases. I wore steel and leather, and killed men with sword and lance.

When I died I was thrust into this world of light and sound and knowledge, where one can travel across a massive city in mere minutes and every man and woman can read the Scriptures for themselves. Where the streets are lit with lightning, and a fever is a minor inconvenience instead of a death sentence.

My armor gives me the strength of one hundred men and tells me how fast my comrades hearts are beating, my weaponry can reach out to strike a heretic dead from a distance unattainable for even the most skilled of longbowmen. It is a place of wonder.”

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“Lack of loyalty’s about the worst quality a person can have but, we ain’t gonna ignore the fact that Granddads just the fucking worst person, right? Right?”

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Who wouldn’t want to bite this man, though? Is it really so crazy?

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“Hell, I dunno, sweetpea…”

He’s leaning over one of the railings of the embassy, smirking.

“I’ll need a pretty convincing argument, it’s a tradition after all.”

She is staring very very hard at her ‘Husband ‘, “don’t even think about participating in that ritual this month ..”

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“Can’t tell how into this I am, and that is a fact that I do not like.”

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Why IS Albert interested in Lute?

Albert: “A beautiful angel who is one of Heavens most elite warriors, who likes music and art, who takes her meat rare, can hold her liquor, and knows how to hold a conversation? God, if only there was some explanation for why a hot-blooded man might catch an interest in such an individual. Truly, a fucking mystery.”

[cast-you-dxwn]

"—anyway, yeah, so they made me like, share a bunk with a dead body for six months. Which was like, fucked, you know, but whatever, I could deal, but the smell? Heugh!"

(Drunken training camp stories for whomever you're feeling!)

“The fucking smell!”

Comes the rejoinder over the rim of a glass of whisky, Albert’s expression a grimace as he tosses back another few fingers of the amber liquid, slamming down his glass and pouring himself another drink before holding the bottle back out to her.

“Reminds me of when we pushed through Normandy, now, you wanna talk about crazy? There was this one time, we come up over this hedgerow, and here’s this whole field of cows just been shot down. And this is the middle of June in southern France, just clouds of flies, yknow.”

He tips back the glass again, and wrinkles his nose.

“They been dead weeks, seems like, but there’s this German machine-gun crew, freshly-dead, and it weren’t none of our boys who done it. We walk up on ‘em, and I shit you not, there’s these French Resistance fighters been crawled up in those cows bellies and laying in ambush, just waiting for targets to come along. They come out, all covered in maggots and rotten meat and start talkin’ all friendly- scared the SHIT out of some of the boys.”

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“A peach. Sweet.”

He looks at her feathers. Shrugs.

“A lil fuzzy.”

@cast-you-dxwn said: “Well, ain’t you just a peach?”

"Wuh...?"

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Mortal Legionaries, aren’t you worried that your general might actually be falling? Why follow him?

Decanus Von Licht: “I have served under the Praetor for over eight centuries. In all of that time, I have never known him to shrink from his righteous duty, and his command has never brought question or doubt into my mind. I serve God, and Saint Michael is His hand.”

Legionnaire Saltern: “Saint Michael was my Confirmation Saint. He watched over me my entire life. Every brawl, every poor harvest, I had faith. Every jump, every firefight, I dropped with his wings at my back. When I died on that shitty, snowy hill, it was the Praetor and his men who came to guide me to Heaven. I’m not gonna turn my back on him at the first sign of trouble. I’m not a fucking pussy.”

Legionnaire Ramirez: “There’s not a single one of us who wouldn’t have done what he did. I have two daughters, and if some jumped-up politician with a vendetta threw one of them into Hell to cover up their mistakes, you bet your dirty ass that I’d have jumped right down with them. They ain’t here yet, and I’m gonna make good and sure that every Heretic cunt is dead and buried by the time they’re ready. Fuck you. Sic Semper Tyrannis. Ave Christus Rex.”

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Personnel Profile: Albert Saltern

Location of birth: Nashville, Tennessee, United States of America

Date of Birth: September 29th, 1921

Location of Death: Bastogne, Wallonia Region, Belgium

Date of Death: December 13th, 1944

Rank: Legionnaire

Unit: Legio Mortalis 778, Century 21, Contubernium 21-3

Unit Specialization: Heavy Weapons

Personnel History: Legionnaire Saltern was born on a small ranch outside of the city of Nashville, the eldest of five children, three sisters and one brother. Brought up in an Irish Catholic household, Saltern was raised by emotionally distant parents, unwillingly appointed the guardian and protector of his siblings at a young age. His youth was unenviable, when not toiling to assist in providing for the family, he often engaged violence with other young men in defense of his siblings, as anti-Irish sentiment was still a recurrent issue in such times.

Notably, during his Confirmation (A practice common in Catholic, Orthodox, and Lutheran sects of The Faith), Saltern chose The Praetor, Seraph Michael, as his Confirmation Saint.

At the entrance of the United States of America into the conflict known as the Second World War, Saltern enlisted in the Army, being sorted into the 101st Airborne Division, a unit noted for their tactic of parachuting from aircraft to assault enemy positions.

Saltern conducted himself well in his mortal service, participating in the June 6th 1944 assault on Normandy, France, the September 1944 taking of Eindhoven, Denmark, and the December 1944 Battle of the Bulge during the Ardennes Offensive, where he ultimately met with his mortal death. Albert Saltern was killed on December 13th, 1944, utilizing a captured German MG-42 emplacement to facilitate his squads retreat from an overrun position. (A worthy death.)

He was minorly wounded thrice in combat, earned several commendations from his military command structure, and faced no charges of ill-discipline or ungodly conduct beyond what all mortal men grapple with.

Upon his arrival in Heaven, he volunteered for service in Legio Mortalis 778 after only two weeks, citing a desire to continue fighting against evil forces as long as they existed. His motivations were examined, his decision counseled, and he was accepted into the ranks of the 778th with full honors.

Psychological Profile: Legionnaire Saltern exhibited a low-level addiction to nicotine in life, and has been counseled twice upon picking up such a habit once more. No threat is likely from occasional partaking.

Saltern has admitted to difficulty adjusting to his new physiology, finding his wings somewhat ungainly when falling into the training he received during his mortal life. Additional training is expected to overcome this.

Saltern complains of difficulty sleeping when deployed. He insists that this is not symptomatic of psychological distress, but due to a hypervigilance that was necessary during his mortal military service that he has, quote: “Yet to shake.” Suggest speaking to a mental health professional.

End of Report.

Ave Christus Rex.

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SIX DOLLAR SHRIMP SPECIAL

“With the clown floozies it makes sense. You might be overestimating, even.”

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“I have never seen this before in my life, and I have never been more frightened. I think you should just duck.”

Saltern if I give you an endless supply of Patch’s cupcakes do you think you can deesculate the situation ?? Somehow ??.

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“Ain’t no way fish demon pussy is that good.”

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What do the mortal legionaries think of their lot in eternity?

“We have been blessed with the opportunity to fight for a truth that we always had faith in. Reborn in Light to defend Creation.

God bless the Kingdom of Heaven.

God bless the Legion.

God bless the Praetor.

In the name of Jesus Christ, on Saint Michael’s Wings.

Feet First Into Hell.”