Ask questions about the military

“So,” you sigh, steeling your nerves against the sights and sounds of your dream and tearing your gaze away from Lily’s cleavage, “what is the military of the USSA like?”

Lily visibly deflates and sighs, resting her head on her hand and taking a consulary sip of her drink, “terrible, worst months of my life.”

“Oh my,” Emilia giggled, face red, “were you in for the full nine months?”

“I certainly was,” Lily snorts, casually throwing up a close-fisted salute beside her head “144th Rifle Regiment out of Fort DeWolf. And you?”

“328th Rifle Regiment of Fort Ripley, People’s State of Minnesota,” Emilia replies back, also giving the same close-fisted salute.

“So you were both in the army?” you ask.

“Not willingly,” Lily says, “but yeah. You like that? Big, strong, Red Army women in uniform?” she adds, and you see a glint in her eye.

Emilia chuckles.

“Don’t you start with me,” Lily huffs, “I’ve heard people say that men love a woman in uniform.”

Emilia gives a knowing look at Lily, straightening out her uniform blouse, which you cannot help but notice is rather tight around her chest.

“And no, yours doesn’t count,” Lily adds.

“Sure, sure,” Emilia says, waving Lily off and then turns to you, “all women get conscripted when they turn 21, you have to report on―” Emilia pauses, snapping her fingers repeatedly, searching for the name.

“Defense Day,” Lily says, finishing off her drink, again.

“Yeah,” Emilia nods, “Defense Day, and then you go and serve in the army for nine months, and then you’re basically free except for a weekend a year when you’ve got to do refreshing courses.”

“Ugh,” Lily groans, refilling her glass, “don’t remind me, I have that coming up again. Want a refill?” she asks, looking at you.

“I―” you start, before she refills Emilia and yours’ glasses in a blink.

“Cheers,” Lily says, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” Emilia replies, raising hers too.

“Cheers,” you half-heartedly say as you toast, before taking another sip that leaves your throat burning and eyes watering from how hard it is.

“But―” you say, then pause to hold in a cough, “but are the whole army conscripts? Is it big? Is it just the army?”

“I know there is a regiment of the National People’s Army out of Fort Duffield which was a little ways down the Ohio from us,” Lily exhales, seemingly immune to the harshness of the booze, “they’re professional soldiers though, not conscripts.”

“So is the National People’s Army something different?” you ask.

“Kinda?” Lily says, shrugs, and looks at Emilia.

“We were in the National Guard, that’s conscripts from the states,” Emilia explained, “and then the National People’s Army is the full-time army, but it’s not very big.”

“I suppose you can also sort of count the Combat Groups of the Working Class and Pioneers in the army in that case too,” Lily says.

“I see,” you say.

“And then,” Emilia says, “there’s also the navy and the air ****, but I don’t know much about them really other than that they have battleships, fighter planes, and all those sorts of big toys they like to show in the movies and on parade days.”

“I know that the navy has a whole fleet of riverboats that they steam up and down the Ohio during Red Fleet Week,” Lily says, nodding, “I saw them once on a school trip to Ashland.”

“And so,” you say, “do men also serve in the military?”

“You’d certainly think so from the recruitment posters,” Lily huffs.

“I’m sure they do though I never saw one,” Emilia says, shrugging, “they aren’t required to appear on Defense Day for conscription. Which is more than the Confederates, I heard they banned men from the military outright.”

“Leading on from the military,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and feeling the warmth spreading across your chest, “what did the last war with the Confederates look like?”

“Before my time,” Lily says, smiling and turning to Emilia.

“I’m not that old,” Emilia frowns, eyes narrowed at Lily, “I was born right after it finished up, but, ah―” Emilia tucked another blonde hair out of her face, eyes looking out the window with a somber air, “from what my mother told me from when she served, it earned its name War to End All Wars.”

“Oh wow,” you say.

“That’s right hun,” Lily sighs, “I remember my Ma telling me about how everything from Memphis to Manassas was a thousand miles of trenches, barbed wire, and mud. She thanked the Good Lord every day that she served on an armored train out in the desert of the Arizona Territory, keeping them Mexican banditos and the Confederate raiders at bay instead of being in the meat grinder.”

“Wow,” you say, “and what about your mother, did she fight?” you ask, motioning to Emilia.

“She did,” Emilia says, “fought in the peninsular campaign in Virginia, and then in the Shenandoah Front and at the Siege of Chattanooga.”

“Wow,” you say, doing your best to sound impressed even if the monumentality of this war is unknown to you.

“Then you know,” Emilia chuckles darkly, “the revolution happens, she gets home to Minnesota for long enough to have me with my papa, we lose the peace, and then the civil war kicks off right after that.”

“The civil war?” you ask.

“Yes,” Lily says, eyes wide and nodding at you, “she is that old.”

“The second one,” Emilia says, side-eyeing Lily, “but that does mean that I am older than the USSA, I do suppose.”

“What happened to the USA then?” you ask, leaning forwards.

“Well they lost us the war for one, hun,” snorts Lily.

Emilia raises an eyebrow and asks “didn’t you all declare the Commonwealth and seceded from the US before the war was lost?”

“Yeah,” replied Lily, taking another sip, “so did the Californians, rats escaping from a sinking ship and all.”

“What happened to California?” you ask.

“Same thing as Kentucky, sort of,” Lily shrugs.

“They both seceded from the United States,” Emilia says, “right before the September Revolution, stayed out of the second civil war,” she pauses to take another sip from her glass and glances at Lily, “and then they eventually called on the Union to kick out the Japanese and the Confederates, then they joined the USSA.”

“Huh,” you say, “I see.”

“Yeah,” Emilia says, wistfully looking out the train car window again.

“So, um,” you start, “I suppose that I ought to get your numbers, right? So we can stay in contact,” you add, giving them a sweet smile.

Emilia blushes and takes a big sip from her glass.

Lily smacks her glass down on the bar top and is a flurry of action. “Paper,” you hear her grumble as she ducks beneath the bar before coming back up with a pad of paper. She produces a pen, and writes, her face an intense gaze, brown eyebrows furrowed almost to a sharp point. She tears the paper off the pad and offers it to you.

“Here, hun, ring me anytime, ask for Lily, hell you can even make it a collect call, I don't mind,” Lily beams as you take it from her. You look and see that you've got her name, the numbers 36-26-38, her mailing address, her home address, and her phone number. You blink. Her phone number is just four numbers. Four numbers.

“Here’s mine, John, sir” Emilia says, looking bashful and blushing softly and passing you a blank ticket with her name, mailing address and phone number written in flowing cursive on the back side. And sure enough her phone number is also only four digits, with the words ‘Ring for St. Louis’ before it just like Lily's.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking the two papers into your pocket.

“So,” Emilia starts, tipsily twisting the same wayward hair around her finger tip, “John, sir, it’s certainly getting late. Is there anything more that you need, or shall I escort you back to your seat?”

Lily stares daggers at Emilia for a moment and downs her drink, before turning to look at you.

“Yeah John,” Lily says, hurriedly unbuttoning several more buttons on her uniform blouse and exposing her defined collarbones and all of her pale chest, “go ahead ask me for anything,” you can see her bra as it holds her well proportioned mounds heaving with each breath, her eyes clouded by unsatisfied lust, “please?” she adds as a **** afterthought.

OOC: Comment with whose sex scene you want to see me work on first!