Military Base #34

[supernal 22146]

"Halcyon event." Cadmium repeated the words a few more times under his breath, getting used to the shape and taste of them, the stark contrast between what the words meant in earnest and what they meant when encoded with the context of Unnatural corruption.

"I have to admit, it's a curious choice of words. Are they taking their pain and subverting it, or are those of the higher order trying to cover up a pockmark on their history? I know too little of the Renovations to say, but if we're reaching out to grasp hands, I should assume nobility in their character."

Cadmium finished his water just as Maya lifted up her cup of punch, and as the diplomat heralded her drink with a smile, the newly appointed captain ended his drink with one.

"There's something of a ring of truth to that.  My grandfather would never have admitted that an Unnatural was capable of the underlying sophistication needed for something like diplomacy to be a useful tool, not beyond a sort of animal cunning anyway. But he knew nothing of Orisia, and it's high court of vampires. Perhaps in some rotting underground city there are hundreds of zombies playing at king and court."

Cadmium showed his traditional Gaianist roots in that speculation, as well too how he deviated from the fundamentalist class before him in the archetype of his grandfather, and even his father. It had been little more than a rebellion against the tired traditions of family in his earliest youth, but his travels since had exposed him to more variance in the world than he had ever imagined before. It allowed Cadmium to think 'what-if', and consider all facets of the question despite how it may make him feel; it let him laugh and think, where he might have otherwise closed off and reacted.

Maya's yawn prompted one of his own, which he obstructed with the back of his drink-free hand.

"It has been a full night hasn't it? If you'll pardon me I think I'll do a round of goodbyes before making my leave. It's been an absolute pleasure."

Cadmium bowed slightly to Maya, to A'rithor, and offered each in their turn a sleek business card with his callsign and comms frequency so that they could stay in touch.

He managed to get only a handful of steps removed from the two diplomats, when his attention was drawn back to the main venue by the sudden extinguishment of the lights. The moment of darkness brief, but just long enough to induce a small panic in Cadmium. He was mid-crouch, committed to it by the time golden sparks shooting through the air threw down sheets of fleeting incandescence on those gathered. Cadmium pretended to tie a shoe, straightening back up with a clearing of his throat and a straightening of his collar.

Not an attack at all – a celebration of Delistair as event champion. Cadmium joined in the applause, even threw in a pitched whistle, before turning in time to see Nur rushing from the main venue and into the open air. While the green-skinned half-breed composed himself, they made eye contacted, and Cadmium began to sign at him with a smile. He touched his eye, his mouth, and then pointed at Nur, to start.

I told you – drink is strong; stomach has lost this battle.

With that Cadmium made his way to the barracks to catch full hold of a restful night and see what the world needed of him next.  

[exit]

[jaistlyn 8193]

The flames on Echo’s drink were sadly suffocated by Nur’s hand, before being gulped down by him. A rather anti-climatic end to the drink, Delistair thought.

The lights went off suddenly, drawing a collective gasp from all present. Cadmium wasn’t the only one who had instinctively reached for their weapon, only to relax when they realized it was a part of the event. Delistair recognized himself on the holograph even before it was fully formed. He wriggled his fingers to see if it was a live broadcast, and indeed it was. Still experiencing the high from his performance, he waved to everyone while the crown was dropped onto his head. There had been a hidden game for the night, and apparently he had managed to fulfill all its objectives before anyone else, though he hadn’t expected to win at all. Del bent his arm at the elbow and bowed to the cheering audience. Basking in the glory of the moment was well and good, but he was also acutely aware that between this superfluous crowning and his onstage presence from earlier, his face was going to be recognizable around the camp for a good long while - and that was not necessarily an entirely good thing.

Finally the hologram dimmed down, and the lights around came back up. Sometime among the commotion, Nur had left, and only him and Hana remained in the circle. He took the crown down from his head, not wanting to draw more attention than he already did.

“Well, that was an unexpected victory,” he told Hana. “I think I’ll be leaving soon, the party looks like it’s wrapping up. It was a good one. Did you enjoy yourself?” Indeed, it was nice to meet people whom he might be fighting alongside with one day. Such events were stark reminders of what peace stood to be, and why they all fought so hard for it.

[roboblu 1005]

She considered his pondering with narrowed eyes, once more turning the drink in her hands. It was a curious choice in name, the diplomat admitted to herself; she had pored over the word after her briefing on Renovatio. 'Halcyon days' was not usually a phrase used to describe plague, famine, and suffering. "Words are powerful," she offered at last, her lips pressing together as she took a moment to think. "Perhaps it offered hope to the Renovatians, or a chance to reclaim something that was forcibly taken from them." A grim 'hah!' left her lips in a pointed exhale. "Maybe they needed something to laugh about during those dark times." The diplomat nodded at Cadmium. "I'll be sure to ask the Grand Kommandant when I speak with her." There was a hint of something mischievous in her voice that alluded to a joke, but Maya was a curious thing, and would actually consider bringing it up to Primera if things went well. 

She hoped things would go well. 

Cadmium's next comment brought a furrow to her dark brow, but an amused, uncertain smile played around her eyes. It was hard to tell whether or not the Captain was joking- my, his face was so serious! Maya decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, offering a slightly wider grin. Regardless of his intentions, she came away with the impression that Cadmium was a deep, creative thinker. The woman made a mental note to ask her parents about the Metireal family, and whether or not his parents had the same odd, pensive attitude. They were bid farewell, though not before exchanging contact information. As she read the neat, stylish print on Cadmium's business card, the diplomat heaved a light sigh. She really needed to order a few of her own. Scrawling numbers on napkins was not exactly professional, and she didn't want to be caught off-guard in any official military endeavors. 

The lights suddenly flicked off, and sparks flew through the air in what Maya could only assume was an attack. Her heart lurched, and, in her panic, she reached out and clutched A'rithor's arm. It soon became apparent that the lights were simply part of the celebration, and that someone -Delistair Page, actually- had won some sort of contest. Chest still heaving, the diplomat retracted her grip with a muttered apology to her new acquaintance. "Well," she said, trying to hide her flustered, pink cheeks, "If I had known we were playing a game, I would have tried a little harder to win!" Maya was not very competitive, but she did enjoy a challenge. "It may as well have been a roll of the dice." Still, her smile was warm as she turned back to her fellow diplomat. "Thank you for keeping me company tonight, A'rithor! It was lovely meeting you, and I owe you one for saving my dress." A light chuckle escaped her lips as she scrawled her radio frequency on yet another cocktail napkin, handing it to him with a wink. "Stay in touch! We ought to compare notes." 

Maya bade her new friend farewell, and, feeling the effects of the punch on her head, started off on her journey home. This was a nice send-off for her upcoming travels, and she'd keep these warm memories with her on the long flight ahead. 

[Unicorgi 98]

 

ysabelle looked around the base than at the map they had given her. she mumbled to herself "just need to find the communications building, find my assigned partner and that's it" she looked around once more and she spotted the building "aha!" she started to walk towards it and thought to herself this guy im supposed to be partnered with seems kinda... I don't even know but im sure he'll be fine. so much reducted information through"  she finally got the communications building and looked around at the outside looking to see if her partner was outside the building, he was in fact, leaning against the wall. she took a breath and walked right over to him and said with a big smile "hi! are you, Marcus Reinstein? I think im your assigned partner!" she held out her hand. welp here I go, my new job, my new partner, my new fricken everything. 

Edited February 12, 2019 by Unicorgi

[Moon Owl 355]

I’m what people would call cynic, I won't deny the fact.

Sometimes I almost feel like I have the gift to see into the future, for everyday I witness the same death in the name of the greater good. It’s all connected and around and around like a merry go round it goes, birth and decay playing a game of cat and mouse and everyday we make it worse. If I were a religious man I would pray for my soul.

And they keep telling us that the nightmare will end but it never does.

I just keep wondering who will left standing after the world has been burned down to ashes, but I guess all that one can do if that prolong our borrowed time and delay our fated Ragnarok. In the end in order to effectively hunt down evil, you will have no choice but to invite the devil inside.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Marcus’s attention shifted as he was greeted by a fairly short individual. Even before the girl had introduced herself, he knew who she was. To him it was clear from the moment that he noticed her approach at the corner of his eye. He flicked his cigarette and agreed to the handshake.

“Bingo.” He replied shortly to her question about his identity.

“I’ve already been informed of your arrival, however for the sake for social etiquette we should exchange the proper formalities in order to establish an emotional connection which will lay the foundation of the success of our future collaboration.” He paused.

“What is your name?” He asked.

---

@Unicorgi

Edited February 13, 2019 by Moon Owl

[Unicorgi 98]

Ok then, this is one confusing guy “I’m ysabelle merriweather” she pushed her cotton candy blue and pink curly hair out of her face “your information sheet is very confusing of course you didn’t get one for me because that hasn’t been processed yet”

[MyStalker 48]

Nicotine-187, or as of his recent enlistment Private Nick. Had entered the Lagrimosa armed forces, and while he looked as though he belonged here possibly more than any other machine, including the speakers drowning the affair in messy, discordant rhythm's. The played a cover 'Requiem for Chardonnay'. A hit pop song that had been circulating around for three years years before getting attention recently as the artist got acclaimed for some of their new work. The archives of human psychology he had front loaded into his random access memory mused dryly to him about how the gradually rising melody and inclusion of instruments built up a sense of catharsis and in humor that'd otherwise go amiss if the lyrics were taken dryly. In fact, if the lyrics were taken as plain language it'd seem downright surreal. With a perfectly controlled facial expression (it was even easier when your face was a glass screen fond of expressions by means of emoticons and little pictures rather than the complexities of a human face, he never liked the effort it took to mimic every subtle feature as he felt so acutely aware of the lies packed into so much as the slightest change in expression) he scanned the room.

Moving not because he had any place to go but because he wanted to see and meet as many of the fine people here as possible. Preferably several officers, but he recognized the value of those who'd be his comrades as well. As he got a good look at the faces of the three hundred and fourteen current guests of the party, their publically available dossiers flowed into his cognition one by one, a cocktail of useful information for persuasion and psychological profiling. The reason why he looked as though he belonged of course was as shallow as why anyone appeared to belong anywhere. But he could not deny how comfortable it was moving through the crowd without drawing any unwanted attention. He was wearing a custom tailored undershirt, pants and shoes with hue's of dark blue and purple highlights. Ever so occasionally as the night went on, his wardrobe. Indeed stitched into his body which was made for a recreational event, changed colour to match. Appearing to visibly drink in the light around him into a informal wardrobe for any occasion. He'd been wearing a suit coat for most of the night but had seemingly abandoned it in time for the after party. Now with one quarter of his shirt not tucked in at the front, hanging down by a few inches while he walked with one pocket in his hand. Most other visitors had the battle of fashion won or lost before they even walked in.

Still, if you looked at him you'd expect anything less than an equal member to any of the human guests, his clothes indicated personality but in such stark contrast to his clean grey body it looked as though it could have been a preprogrammed routine. Self aware androids as sophisticated as him were like a needle in a haystack in the armed forces with most mechanized soldiers (or drones as they were often called) were seen as equipment more than men. Usually because the bodies they were put in looked like the simple machines they were made out to be. Even here he felt some conflict between his honor and his real self. 'Susan or JC would actually belong here, this charade makes me sick' But this thought sparked some introspection.

Query? Why did these parties exist?...

Awnser: Dependent on context.

Military / Political: Events such as this increase the sense of loyalty human warriors have to the hierarchy by celebrating vertical movement. Indicating that advancement is possible and enjoyable sparks an ambition response in low and high level members.

Personal: ...

Try as he might he could not satisfy this second question, why did the average person come here. Or rather, why did the average person who enjoys these functions come? He actually felt compelled to discuss this topic, which was a strong comfort. If he found a good partygoer to cover this topic with then in a very real way he would belong here. Even if he started the night with what some might call a critical perspective. But who... He cataloged nearby guests.

Edited August 8, 2020 by MyStalker

[supernal 22146]

# aesthetic

pic for reference only

OOC thread

# logistics

This is the reception or "after party". The official and formal pinning ceremony happened just before this. Soldiers often celebrate with family and select family to pin them but it's also common to be have your honors pinned by a superior officer (note I have no military experience so I hope this is sensible to those who do)

This after party is less formal with an emphasis on "campy" fun. Fog, lights, music, drink, foods. You probably shouldn't get black out drunk around your peers and potential superiors but also you don't have to go saluting everyone and things like that

In terms of attire, not black tie, but not t-shirt and jeans

Activities ideas: introduce yourself to a new character, ask characters about their hobbies, collaborate on upcoming missions, propose a toast for characters you already know, get specific music played, give someone a gift, introduce characters to one another, sing a song or play an instrument

# honored personnel

Emile - danzilla3
Decant - Zashiii
Aethe - darthgamer101

Edited September 3, 2020 by supernal

[danzilla3 5018]

The ceremony had been nice. Emile had hated it.

To a man who made his living in the shadows, standing up on a stage in front of hundreds of people was a little slice of hell. Longshot's dreamed of finding their targets in such vulnerable positions. Rationally he knew that the event would be locked down tight, but he just couldn't shake that thought. Still, he had managed to stand there and look good in his dress uniform; smiling and shaking his superior's hand once his medal was pinned. If the brass wanted more from him than that, they would have to raise his salary.

He only felt more out of place when he saw the families of other soldiers celebrating the achievements of their loved one. None of his family had been able to make it to the ceremony, though he'd been in contact with them. His mother and father had both congratulated him in a vid call, and most of his siblings had gotten in touch one way or another. Samuel had even called; the two brothers having an awkward conversation before his older sibling expressed pride in Emile. It had been nice, if somewhat uncomfortable. 

Now he sat at a mostly empty section of the bar, sipping a whiskey while he tried to decide how long he had to stay before it would be appropriate to leave.

[Maelstrom 121]

The comfort of the barracks and the taste of warm food is still pretty foreign for the likes Arthuria Haptism who just been accepted as a recruit in this place, he had to admit that this place is way better that having to either steal or to scavenge for scraps to keep himself alive, he kept himself silent, keeping everything to himself and being too secretive, even to his superior

Edited August 14, 2020 by Maelstrom

[MyStalker 48]

Nicotine's field of view targeted two potential persons of interest given his priorities. One had the telltale signs of lonesomeness, anti-social behavior, and a hardened look about him. Not to mention a shiny new medal, the man was his superior in personal experience, and by a slimmer margin. Rank. His name was Emile. The other was a Private Haptism, his record seemed as straightforward as can be. A downright marketable story of a vagrant exploring Lagrimosan opportunity and finding a cause he could live for. Or, was he just trying to fill his belly? There was no way Neeco could tell from a distance, and indeed he preferred making his own opinions than interpreting fact from the records and appearances of others. They each seemed like interesting subjects to survey. "They say new recruits get a free drink at the bar, but I'm not much for... Fluids of any kind really~ If you meatbags are good at one thing it's intoxicating yourselves, how about you claim mine. I heard the swill here is weapons grade, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or critique." He said in a straightforward manner, Neeco was not fond of humor in general. But he appreciated querying the responses in those he interacted with to enhance his material. It was a great, social game of sorts that helped an analytical being like him keep in mind the nuances of interaction.

Without waiting for a response, he made is way to the bar. Where, just as planned. There were two stools open to Emile's right and one to his left. He ignored his own chair, but leaned on the bar from the one furthest from the Sargent. He did not like being slouched over, call it paranoya but he preferred having his sensors pointed in as many directions as possible. Ready to get a move on if need be. Plus it's not like his electronic legs got stiff from standing on them all day. The only times he sat down were in vehicles without the clearance for him to stand. He waved his hand by the service scanner. His palm brought up the magnetic code of his military ID which was coined into his debit account. Letting the new recruit pick his poison from a holographic display where, after a brief automatic mixing process (mostly fluff to build anticipation, even if you ordered distilled water the counter would hum and vibrate in exciting fashion) before two ice cold cups slid up with his selection. If his comrade was not interested, he ordered a single round for Emile and Decante. Bribes were such an easy way for humans to display care for one another. Well, not just humans. He was well aware booze for his brother or... any bit of rubbish for his sister would make quite the impression.

Edited August 14, 2020 by MyStalker

[Zashiii 4331]

Ah...promotions.

Decant was never one to enjoy being lauded for his deeds and accomplishments but he did understand the necessity of such an event. It did not make matters better when the only person who showed was his old friend Shethid Fakir. The man was rumored to have been working under Commager although Decant rarely believed such gossips. Still, he was thankful that someone did remember him although he would have been concerned and greatly disconcerted if one of the ladies from the cartel did visit him in this place. The implications of such an event alone could be devastating for his military career. He should take more precautions especially with his rather questionable past.

Now that Sethid was gone, Decant was all alone. As he was about to leave, he spotted Emile in one of the empty sections of the bar. He never did talk with the guy much on their last run but social interaction were sometimes necessary for a person's reputation. This prompted Decant to approach the man and start a conversation.

"Ah! Emile, mind if I take a seat?"

@danzilla3

[Maelstrom 121]

Hearing the thing Nicotine said Arthur could only let out a small sigh, feeling that he would indulge in such a wasteful activity such as drinking alcohol and get wasted

[danzilla3 5018]

"Ah! Emile, mind if I take a seat?"

Emile glanced over to see Decant standing next to the bar, waiting politely to be invited to sit. Although the two of them hadn't spoken much during the operation, the man had handled himself well. Working with professionals always made the job just a bit easier. Still, the Longshot was initially reluctant to say yes, but figured that if he was going to be here anyway, he might as well have company.

"Feel free," he replied, gesturing to the seat beside him.

Once Decant was seated he would offer, "What are you drinking?"

@Zashiii

[Zashiii 4331]

On 8/21/2020 at 5:48 PM, danzilla3 said:

"Feel free," he replied, gesturing to the seat beside him.

Once Decant was seated he would offer, "What are you drinking?"

Decant frowned as he sat down beside Emile, mulling over what to drink. Recently he had quite the aversion to most alcoholic beverages as his previous affiliations had him drinking such intoxicating substances (and more) up to the point of excessive overdosing. Still, it would be rude not to drink in a party so he just had to grin and bear it.

"I'm having what you're having.," he replied to Emile.

While he waited for the drink to be served he decided to strike conversation again.

"Nice work you did there in Dougton. I'm not privy to most of the details but did you meet the actual hivemind?"