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Chapter 29: Well-Placed Cliffs, Squishy Mud, Family Reunions No One Wanted

When your charger breaks and your computer dies but you can still steal your friends computer to write: 😎

It's raining. It always is.

You're sitting around a covered campfire on the frontlines, roasting potatoes and making small talk as you wait for more replacements for your squadron to come. After a Tnt trap exploded, killing half of your group, the survivors had been told to wait for reinforcements.

Shotgun hands you another potato, taking the one you finished roasting and eating it. Technoblade took first watch; Carson is asleep; and Ballistic (or Ball-Squid, as Shotgun mockingly calls him), Chris, and James are holding a conversation about someplace called 'America'. You wordlessly finish the potato and stand up to take it to Techno, who's perched in a tree a few yards away.

"Any sign?" you ask as you approach. He shakes his head. Sighing, you hand him the potato and pull yourself up onto the branch next to him. "General Keen sure is taking his time sending them. If they're not here by morning, we're going to miss the fight. And we'll have to spend seven hours explaining how we do things." Needless to say, your group's way of fighting a way was... unorthodox. Technoblade, having the most fighting experience, was your leader, and, being an anarchist, had some interesting things to say about the High Command.

"And I'll have to spend another day in this burning hot place. How many mosquitos are there?" Technoblade scoffed, rubbing his neck. Being from the arctic, he wasn't the most enthusiastic about the sticky, hot, and ETERNALLY RAINING swamp of a forest you were camped in.

"Hold up," Technoblade said suddenly, straightening up. "Did I eat the hallucinogenic berries again, or was that a flash of light?" You frowned, peering into the dark, but didn't see anything for a long time. Finally, your eye caught a silver flash of metal.

"That's them!" you cried, hopping off the branch. "I'll go wake the others." Darting back to the fire, you grinned at Shotgun. "They're here." Shotgun grinned back and hopped up to shake Carson awake.

Ballistic glanced at you. "They here, Y/N?" you nodded, placing the last of the uncooked potatoes into the fire and shouldered your pack as you went back to wait with Techno.

Eventually, a pack of eight to ten soldiers marched in, some looking more sleep-deprived than others. Techno stepped forward, introduced everyone, and frowned. "You took your time getting here." The soldiers didn't say anything, but one of them looked like he wanted to. After explaining what they would be doing the next day, he looked at you. "Y/N has a hot meal cooking, and Carson will arrange where you're sleeping. Shotgun, get a list of names and make the amended duty rosters." Shotgun nodded and grabbed a clipboard, going up to each of the soldiers.

After they talked to Shotgun, most of them went with Carson to claim the best sleeping spots before anyone else did, save for the one who looked like he wanted to talk back to Techno. He came up to you, sat down, grabbed a potato, and pulled out a bottle of beer.

"That'll kill you," you said offhandedly as you shifted the cooking spuds.

"Excuse me?" he asked, biting his potato.

"The alcohol. Did I stutter, stupid b*tch?" This guy seemed like the type of man to only listen to someone with a tongue to match his. "One day, you'll die of a heart attack or something."

He scoffed and pointedly took another swallow. "Darling, with how miserable this sh*thole is, I'd be perfectly happy to drop dead."

"I'd be perfectly happy if you dropped dead too." You glanced up at him to find him grinning, and you couldn't help but smile back. "I'm Y/N, by the way."