Guadalcanal PbP In-Character Thread

[cssmythe3]

Hollywood crouches down with his hands before him as if in prayer, takes a deep breath, and springs forward out of the MG nest with his hands thrust out before him like a high diver.

He goes right through the legs of one of the first japanese soldiers to reach the edge of the nest! The enemy's samuri-esque battle cry continues even though he stops his charge to bend over and look upside down at the scurrying American.

"Youse can be Secretary of the Offense..."

Hollywood curls into a somersault, rolls up onto his feet, and uses his forward momentum to leapfrog over the back of another enemy who was trying to stab him with a bayonet.

"...you'll be Secretary of the Inferior..."

He lands both feet solid on the ground in the middle of the pack of attackers and throws back his hands like a gold medal winner at the Olympics and proclaims:

"... and I'll be the Toastmaster General! (nyuck nyuck)"

[diablorojo]

Lenny rips the top off the last, precious tin of cigarettes.
``You wanna play like that, buddy?'' he snarls at the wounded Japanese soldier. ``Let me get a smoke out and I'll go `Jesse Owens' all over your ass!!''

[countrysamurai]

Syskowskiís Zippo flashed and a second later the nest was filled with the flying dust and the sound of pounding feet. Sgt. Collins felt like he was trapped in the middle of a dust devil.
The wounded Japanese soldier tried to stand but the quick report of a rifle left him sprawled and motionless. The dust storm flew out the back of the nest then surrounded the Japanese soldiers who were swinging wildly at Private Franklin. In rapid succession, three of the attackers fell dead with the snap of a rifle. Franklin drove his retrieved knife into the last man standing.
Back inside the machinegun nest, Sgt. Collins struggled to peer through the settling dust. Two figures appeared in the shadows, but before he could pull the trigger a piercing pain shot through his back.
Collins screamed as the two approaching figures materialized as Imperial soldiers and both plunged their fixed bayonets into him.

[countrysamurai]

The screams of Sgt. Collins sent the rest of the squad scrabbling back to the machinegun nest. Private Franklin vaulted away from the grappling imperial soldier, who swung his rifle wildly. Following him in from the back of the nest is the dust devil kicked up by Syskowskiís thundering feet.
The bamboo slat roof of the lean-to shelter is ripped aside by the stony arms of Amrahamovich revealing the chaotic scene inside.
Private Franklin stood in a fencerís pose. His K-Bar knife embedded to the hilt in the base of the Imperial commanderís skull. His katana clattered to the ground, followed by his body, like a marionette suddenly without strings to hold it.
Three rapid gunshots rang out from the spinning dust, but not before one of the Imperial soldier plunged his fixed bayonet into Collins a second time.
Private Franklin stared wide-eyed for a moment at the blood-covered stump of his left hand. Then his eyes narrowed into a squint.
ìAarrr, bosín! Fetch me a bag. I seem tí ëave dropped me fingers. Anyone for a game o' knuckle bones? Har har har!"

[countrysamurai]

Hollywood threw his head back in laughter. His bloody hand flickered in black and white, then was suddenly restored and undamaged.
"Dang, that smarted," Private Franklin said as he shook his left hand and flexed his fingers.
The Imperial Japanese who had struck him outside the nest stood for a moment stupidly staring at his bayonet, broken in half. Then, with a look of renewed determination, he cocked his rifle.

[countrysamurai]

Again came the ragged cry from the tall grass below the ridge.
"BANZAI!!!!!"

[countrysamurai]

It was answered by another yell from the east.
"BANZAI!!!!"

[countrysamurai]

Sgt. Collins gritted his teeth as he pulled the trigger of his pistol. The Japanese soldier fell backwards as his head exploded.
Collins body was shaking. Going into shock, he thought. This is it. Then he realized someone was saying something to him. It was the doctor; he placed Collins nearly detached hand on the back of his book, said some words in Yiddish, and his hand reattached itself. He couldn't feel anything though. His fingers moved but they were all numb.
Collins was tired, so damn tired. He watched the boy, Hollywood, swing around singings some showtune as he dispatched a wounded soldier with a knife, then with a casual toss, bury the blade in another soldier 12 feet away.
None of it seemed real anymore.
Another yell, came from down the ridge. To the west, this time.
"BANZAI!"
There seemed to be no end to the enemy.

[cssmythe3]

"... IT DON'T MEAN A THING IF IT AIN'T GOT That swing...."

The throaty jazz vocal that was accompanying Hollywood's lindy hop of carnage fades into a deflating bagpipe note. He has broken a sweat, and the blood splattered liberally up his right arm which was cinematicaly black is redding and starting to drip. He looks at Fix's myriad wounds, the still unconscious Carson, and the very concerned look on Roc's face.

"Aw jeese guys, sorry, I guess I got carried away..." He thrusts his jaw out and decides to start acting like a soldier.

Queue "When Johnny comes marching home"

[cssmythe3]

[Roc]

"The firebase sounds like they're getting worse than we are! REGAN! Should we fall back to help them out!?"

Roc steps over the radio to the front of the mangle nest and sweeps his arms forward like the wings of a falcon landing on a branch, sending waves of ripples through the solid rock and earth before him.

"We've had an enemy talent in every wave so far, anyone feel anything. Lenny, fix, use me for cover!

[hollywood]

Carl calmy steps out of the nest hoping to lure the bad guys away from his friends. "HEY YOU, with the big BUTTER KNIFES! Why don't you try ME!" Briefly wishing he had a horse and a lasso, he turns and snaps off a single shot from the BAR.

[jw_monty]

Regan dives into the nest, knife in hand, and discards his battered SMG.

"We have our orders, Marine. We hold here for now. The rest will have to take care of themselves."

He takes a quick moment to survey the carnage in the nest.

"Collins, what's the status of that machinegun?"

[mteague]

Hey L-T... Sorry Sir, it's total FUBAR, maybe we can use it as a club...

[countrysamurai]

The squad gathered again inside and around the newly refortified machinegun nest, grabbing the weapons that could be found and reloaded.
The song, "Yellow Rose of Texas" filled the air, and Hollywood, suddenly wearing a coon skin cap, rattled off some dialogue from "Heroes of the Alamo" as screaming Japanese charged up the hill. A cluster of them disappear in a barage of gunfire followed by the explosion of a landmine.
Back inside the nest, Sgt. Collins pressed the barrel of his pistol to the head of another prone soldier and pulled the trigger. This was the man, who minutes ago stared him right in the eye as his bayonete sunk into Collin's guts.
Blood splattered Collins face as his pistol jerked. He blinked blood out if his eyes along with a single tear. His face was void of all emotion; his gaze a thousand miles distant.

[mteague]

"Here ya go mate, an' init just wot the Doc ordered?" Smiling devilishly through the spatters of blood on his face, Sgt 'Fix' Collins tosses his grenade with barely a flourish into the screaming rush....

[countrysamurai]

Lt. Regan came suddenly to the realization that he was no longer a giant fighting among men as he was before coming to Guadalcanal. Now, he was a Titan fighting next to other Titans! They were a lean, green killing machine. A juggernaut, and God have mercy on the enemy, for they would find none on this ridge!