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GAMA: Redux [IC] Episode 1 "Bad Company"

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Monfrox
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Founded: Mar 25, 2011
Father Knows Best State

GAMA: Redux [IC] Episode 1 "Bad Company"

Postby Monfrox » Fri Apr 12, 2019 1:53 am

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United States of America
El Paso County, Colorado
GAMA North American Division
Former US Army base Fort Carson
Spring, 2047
0800 Hours


To say the years had been generous was a flat out lie. Between all the branches, the only real ones making much of a headway were the Asian Division troopers, and they had a lot on their plate as it was. Not to mention that most of the Valkyries being sent out had left the main operation in America rather scarce options for it's own Pilot Corps. Most pilots had never saw America again after leaving the Cheyenne Mountain Complex that had been converted into GAMA's main base of operations for the North American division, and its main training facility for Valkyrie pilots. For that reason, Fort Carson was also selected to be a new GAMA base. Luckily, the US Army units there were few and far between, and accepted the offer to join their ranks. Of course, that's how it always went. GAMA's play was always "Join with us now, and you will have your country back when we leave". But they had yet to make good on the last part, as their was much work to be done. For that reason, most of the divisions were autonomous with a weekly council meeting with the main division commanders, as well as subsequent meetings between division commanders and their respective base commanders.

Fort Carson was on the front line, all the time. Denver had seen a bad hit, but luckily the 10th SFG and 4th ID had been held back before so that when things had fallen apart, they were able to keep the base defended. Most of the defensive measures were adopted by the GAMA units there since most of the survivors were rotated out for some much needed and well-earned R&R before coming back. GAMA officers knew a good thing when they saw it, mainly because they were removed from a lot of the politics that usually went with high-tier military leadership. There wasn't time to bicker while the enemy shambled around outside the fence, testing to see how accurate the night guards on duty were. The answer was almost always "very". With that, Valkyrie training had been exceptionally hard to get pilots up to a Specialist level. Every Valkyire had training qualifications for advanced combat tactics inside and outside of their MACEs as well as long-term survival training to help ensure pilot survivability.

But after training and graduation was over, and their first deployment was under way, things got both easier and harder. The Sun was rising on Fort Carson as most Specialized Kill Team members were doing their morning PT laps with some of the Training Instructors that had been brought out from the Cheyenne facility. Each of the pilots were issued a mission tablet in which everything came through that they needed to know. Training openings, mess hall menus, and most importantly: mission briefing times. Valkyries were allowed to do most anything they wanted on their own so long as it did not damage GAMA property or personnel. Sometimes, that last part of the rule had to be repeated.

From the base commander's office, a woman sat at a desk in her gray service uniform, which was a fancy inbetween of dress and battle dress. She tick-tacked away on a keyboard of a laptop for minutes on end, pausing only to take a sip of coffee before she was done.

"Annnnddd....there we have it. Data collected from the recon teams shows promise, so hopefully we can get some breathing room for this next operation. Lieutenant?"

"Yes Miss Christensen?"

"Send out the notice. Mission briefing at 1000 hours."

"Yes ma'am. At once."

Her Executive Officer turned around and went to work on her own tablet, which was a higher-end model for more administrative purposes. She sent out the briefing notice to all the Valkyrie tablets as she walked to the intelligence sector to get all the necessary intel on their new op ready for them.
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United Kingdom of Poland
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Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby United Kingdom of Poland » Fri Apr 12, 2019 5:57 pm

Nadya Yakovlev smiled as she read the notice on her tablet after stepping out of the shower. Quickly getting dressed in a pair of olive green cargo pants, grey under armor t-shirt, and combat boots, she began making her way to the armory with a noticeable spring in her step. Finally, another mission after being cooped up in this base for far too long. She had started getting bored here, missing her time in Toylatti where she would be out patrolling for weeks at a time.

Maybe command had finally gotten their head out of their ass and seen fit to let me off the leash. She thought to herself. Lord knows it would do some good having an operative like me roaming around the Judgment’s Grace’s supply lines and rear areas. I’d do a lot more good there than sitting on my ass for days on end. Greeting the sergeant who ran the armory and collecting a case that held her ASM Val suppressed assault rifle, she began disassembling the weapon for a complete inspection.

“Ma’am.” Just as she was reassembling her personal weapon the head of the Armory called out to her. “Mind if corporal Stevens gets a look at your weapon.” Nadya nodded, pushing her seat aside to let the corporal in close. “Modernized ASM Val assault rifle with integrated suppressor, didn’t think I’d ever see a piece of kit like this before. I assume you run a four power ACOG sight on it…” As the corporal went to touch the receiver, Nadya’s hand shot out to grab his.

“I said you could look Corporal.” She replied coldly. “Not touch.” Letting go of the mans hand, she finished reassembling her rifle and put it back in the case. “The bolt carriers going to need replacing within the next month.” She told the head armorer as she handed him the case. “Can I still count on a replacement?”

“Yes ma’am.” The man replied.

“I’ll be back to sight it our briefing.” She glanced back over to the corporal. “Make sure no one touches it.” Running by the mess hall to grab a quick bite to eat, Nadya was still the first Valkyrie in the briefing room.

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Hanafuridake
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Hanafuridake » Fri Apr 12, 2019 7:18 pm

The alarm clock buzzed and Mako opened her eyes, reaching her hand out instinctively and pressing the off button. She sat up and looked around in a dreamlike daze, wishing that she could wake up one day and this would all be revealed to be a dream. On her shelf was a lone book in Japanese『万葉集』which looked as though it were about to fall apart from years of wear and tear. Yawning mildly, Mako opened the book and read the poems which she had wanted to finish yesterday but felt too tired to.

Time started to fly and soon she had to set the book aside when a notice from the tablet informed her she had two hours before briefing time. That was more than enough time, but Mako liked to be prepared in case of unexpected events. It left a good impression on commanding officers too, which was equally important in her mind. She quickly prepared her uniform and took a shower, though there was little need to. Kamo no Mako had a reputation for probably being the cleanest person in the division, perhaps obsessively so.

When she entered the mess hall, she could see Yakovlev, but made no attempt to be noticed by her. Interacting with the fellow pilots outside of military operations was not something she was keen on doing. She ate as far away from anyone else as she could, her eating being quick and rushed rather than enjoying the flavor. American food is awful, she grimaced to herself. If the living dead didn't kill her, Yankee food would.

After finishing, she walked to the briefing room, disappointed to see that the Yakovlev girl had been earlier to arrive than she was. She would need to be much quicker in the future, Mako promised herself.
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Wolfenium
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Wolfenium » Fri Apr 12, 2019 10:43 pm

"Morning, Mako," a cheery voice ringed in her hear, as a pair of hands curled around the Japanese girl's waist.

Giving the girl a surprise glomp was a ditzy redhead, her hair ribbon standing up like a pair of bunny ears as she greeted the quiet colleague. In many ways, she was Mako's complete opposite. A cheerful and confident personality, incredibly active and fit, but academically inept, the Persian American's path to becoming a Valkyrie was far rougher than her personality showed. And yet, her abysmal technical and academic results never seemed to dent her confidence, and it took some help from her sister to grind a pass to get in. Since, her daily routine almost consisted entirely of PT, sharpshooting, and tinkering with her M27 IAR and 'Doug' MACE. As for her piloting skills, there appeared to be nothing problematic as of yet, though anything regarding her tactical skill still left much to be desired.

"Another combat mission, me see," she chimed at the briefing, "I almost feel like sleeping again. The air con is so cooling~... Where'd you think we'll be hitting next? Tucson? Phoenix? Ooh, maybe we're going over the borer again!"

Of course, personalities were not the only thing that set her apart from Mako...
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Vanquaria
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Postby Vanquaria » Fri Apr 12, 2019 11:09 pm

Scott Hood


The carpet had begun to feel like a blanket of nails, fire searing through his tendons every time his muscles contracted against the solid surface. Every rep mattered for Scott but nearing the end was torturous. His form was slackening as a result but he persevered with his teeth grit and his brows furrowed, visibly straining himself.

"1-100! WHEW!"

Collapsing onto the floor, the Australian teen remained sprawled there for a while. The morning had just begun but his half-naked body was already gleaming with perspiration. Panting loudly, he eventually forced himself up and put on a T-shirt, blue-colored with an image of the Opera House at its front. Still covered in sweat, Scott headed out for his 10k run.

When he came back, he hit the showers immediately. As he did so, a notification popped up on his tablet though he did not notice it. Scott indulged himself under the water for a while and by the time he came out, there was only an hour left until the scheduled briefing. However, 60 minutes was more than enough time for Scott and he took it in his stride, leaving his room again, this time in fresh military fatigues, for the mess hall.

Hunger often affects one's tastebuds. That was the case for Scott as he downed his meal, deliberately savoring it. It was the replenishment he needed for his 6-foot body, the carbs refueling what he had lost in his morning exercise routine. Returning his plate when he was done, Scott strode to the briefing room and saw that others had made it before him.

He gave a satirical salute to his foreign comrades as he seated himself at the front, "G'day, ladies. Enjoy the chow?"
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Castelia
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Benevolent Dictatorship

Postby Castelia » Sat Apr 13, 2019 3:23 am

Michael Corvin| Fort Carson, El Paso County, Colorado

A smile grew on Michael's face as he saw his fellow Valkyries assemble in the briefing room. He wasn't surprised, considering he took his time going there after all. He had been up early that morning, waking up at 0500 in order to perform his morning routine. After waking, he had jogged from 0515 to 0700 hours, after which he had made his way back to his quarters for some rest and later a shower.

At 0745 hours, he proceeded to the mess hall in order to have some breakfast. 15 minutes later, he received the update ordering him to proceed to the briefing room. Despite finishing his breakfast at 0830, he didn't feel the need to proceed directly to the meeting room as he still wasn't dressed appropriately. As such, he retreated back to his room and changed his clothes to standard military fatigues.

Finally, he made his way to the briefing room, where he saw 4 others that had assembled before him. At this point, Michael decided to make his presence known with a standard greeting.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see we're all in good shape today."
Last edited by Castelia on Sat Apr 13, 2019 3:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Sudbrazil
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Founded: Jan 14, 2018
Corporate Bordello

Postby Sudbrazil » Sat Apr 13, 2019 8:22 pm

Edward Gallagher Smith
Fort Carson, El Paso county ~ 0805 hours, 2047



Eʟ Pᴀsᴏ ᴡᴀs ʜᴏᴛ, a lot hotter than Alaska, or even Cheyenne Mountain’s air conditioned interior, but Gallagher was sure that his body would accustom itself to the new thermobaric conditions. He had heard of soldiers sent off to far away lands like Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, boiling under the sun in the never-ending deserts and mountains thousands of miles away from home...
Gallagher reprimanded himself, noting that he was once again drfiting off. This shouldn't happen, especially when inspecting his service weapon. It was an old thing with a 20 inch barrel to maximize the buildup of gases and pressure before the round left the barrel, guaranteeing higher muzzle velocities and proper fonctionnent of the gas impingement system. The old plastic stock and aftermarket triangular handguard were ergonomic, and fit his larger than average hands well. Granted, it was at least two or three generations behind the standard, but the soldiers on the front lines were the priority for new rifles, and frankly he did not mind. One or two rounds of 5.56×45 flung at over 900 meters per second caused substantial tissue damage to armoured and unarmored targets alike, which would almost certainly cause incapacitation or death. Furthermore, the magazines carried 30 brass cartridges, spare parts were plentiful and the aluminium and polymer weapon was extremely light. Satisfied with his inspection, Gallagher pressed the pins in place and attached the fabric sling, placing the M16 next to his survival pack which he had loaded with a few magazines an be his sidearm earlier that day.
While in the process of adjusting his uniform and polishing his shoes, the touchtronic device permanently residing on his desk emitted a faint attempt at catching his attention. A summons, perhaps? Gallagher thought, after all, there were not many people sending messages these days. A quick glance at the screen confirmed his suspicions, yet he was relieved that the briefing.would be held later, meaning he would have time to go check on his MACE as well as his comrades in arms.
His passage through the mess hall was rather swift for his liking. Generally, his colleagues would be more chatty — with the notable experience of Mako, the shy — but this time the Iranian operative’s antics failed to spark any long-lasting conversation, nor did the generally jolly Australian manage to engage in good banter. At least it gave him some time to appreciate the food, not that industrial cuisine was the finest out there.



At precisely 1000 hours rang on the small wristwatch, Smith presented himself at the briefing room. While a quick deployment was unlikely to be necessary, the Alaskan had already prepared himself for such an eventuality as he showed by the holster hanging from his belt and the pilot's vest which covered his upper body. He saluted the officer there present, before sitting himself at the front row.
Last edited by Sudbrazil on Sat Apr 13, 2019 8:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Xing
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Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xing » Sat Apr 13, 2019 8:53 pm

"You know we have another hour and a half right?" A monotonous young male droned out over the bustle of two individuals running at the end of the tarmac.

"Yeah, but the sooner we get there the less chance we have of missing anything important." A second, more noticeably cheery, boy responded.

"What could we possibly miss an hour and a half before the briefing is scheduled for?" The question coming off with an extremely dry sarcasm.

"You never know Jack, maybe they'll start it early."

"An hour and a half early." The monotonous boy's tone becoming even drier. "They're gonna start the briefing an hour and a half early. Barely a half an hour after sending out the notice that there even was one."

"Then stay out here." The cheerier boy chuckled, turning around to his companion. He continued to skip backward to keep himself moving toward the base itself.

Jack stopped for a moment, watching his friend continue to trot away. He could tell Leon didn't actually think that the briefing could have started already. He had known him long enough to know Leon was just eager to ship out again. Jack rolled his eyes as he took off again, trailing behind Leon as they entered the base. With the jog back to base finishing off their morning run, Leon and Jack had already gone through most of their morning routine. All that was left was breakfast in the mess hall before Leon could pull Jack to the briefing without any sort of excuses. They each grabbed a tray and jumped in line, not even halfway down the line Leon began to haggle for an extra serving of bacon.

"Come on, I'm a growing boy." He whined insincerely.

"You grow anymore and you're gonna burst through the roof." The individual behind the counter responded.

"With ceilings like these?" Jack flatly asked. He looked up to the raised ceilings of the dining facility. "For all of our sakes, let's hope not."

With Jack's momentary distraction of the mess worker, Leon slowly reached for a strip of bacon from the top of the stack. The worker, having noticed this, rapped him on the knuckles with their tongs, tossed an extra strip on his tray, and pointed his tongs over Leon's shoulder.

"Get." They hissed. Leon snapped off an unofficial salute at the individual before scurrying off towards a table. Jack took his place in the line and was met with an awkward silence from the mess worker. "... You want your serving, you get it from him." They finally said motioning to Leon. Jack raised an eyebrow at the individual before giving him a nod and heading off to sit with Leon.
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Rupudska
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Postby Rupudska » Sun Apr 14, 2019 2:14 pm

GAMANAD
Fort Carson
Spring 2047
Focus: Casey Briggs


Casey was up almost as soon as she was able, waking herself up with a bit of black coffee and a steady jog around the area that she and the other Valkyrie pilots were permitted. One even 10K later, she was fully warmed up for the rest of her morning exercises - admittedly, these were mostly just stretches and simple body-weight exercises - sit-ups, pull-ups, push-ups, the like. Then came the shower and the actual preparing for the day, such as putting on things besides a sports bra and boyshorts - she never wore shoes when exercising unless the heat forced her to, or she was ordered.

One scalding hot shower later - never underestimate the psychological value of hot water, even if Casey tended to use a little too much hot and a little too much water and she was ready for the next step - a little makeup here, a bit of tooth brushing there, mouth rinse, other crap she had to put up with, military fatigues, and off to the mess hall she went.

Mess hall was the usual fare for her - potato pancakes and meat, or the closest thing to it, enjoyed slowly while reviewing the news of the day, including info on a briefing that nearly made her drop a spoonful of yogurt in surprise.

Nonetheless, she finished with more than enough time to reach the briefing room by 1000 hours, at which point she slouched into whatever seat was available and reasonably near the front.
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Kassaran
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Capitalist Paradise

Postby Kassaran » Sun Apr 14, 2019 7:35 pm

A Company, Always On the Run

There was a hill in this expanse of scrub, and dirt, and sand. Time hung thick in the absence of the breeze which had for a moment ceased in its serpentine motions across the land. In the air there hung a silence and it clung to the grass as a muted whisper, a conversation interrupted by the figure now standing atop the rise. There was a man in this expanse of still, quiet, motionless air. Sweat beaded along his brow and dripped along a defined cheekbone. The plain black shirt clung to the gently heaving chest, two lungs filling and emptying themselves with the long rushes of breath, drawn between the parted lips of one Victor Mendoza, GAMA Valkyrie.

Staring behind himself, there was a look of pained recognition as the eyes hardened in the light of the rising sun. Familiar shapes, colors, movements, revealed the waking of the base and it's rise to activity in the bustle of the morning. Deciding he wouldn't linger longer than this, he blinked once, then twice and turned to run the remainder of his morning circuit around the base. So it was, that there was a hill in this expanse of paths, buildings, and asphalt. Time rocketed forward as the current of a fast-flowing stream which wound it's way through white-water rapids. Noise carried upon the breeze brought the sounds of distant turbines and horns blowing and in it all there came an interruption by the absence of four figures that once had stood upon this hill.


United States of America
El Paso County, Colorado
GAMA North American Division
Former US Army base Fort Carson
Spring, 2047
0802 Hours
Valkyrie Victor 'Ares' Mendoza


As he made his way through the densely packed buildings of the Valkyrie residential quarters, his hands ran through the sweaty clumps of hair, tearing through tangles with familiar pricks of pain which forced the 26 year old to wince. Thick hair was a bastard for his running, and he would have gone to get it cut over the previous weekend, but a memory had haunted his dreams and brought his legs to the hill upon which he'd stood this morning. As he entered his sparsely decorated, yet well-furnished room he looked around. For the end of the world, a desk, a bed, his own bathroom, and the closet which held his clothes was the highest standard he'd set. An old picture sat on the sill of the window in the corner of the room, a glint of morning sunshine reflecting off of the glass and shining in a brilliant beam past Victor's face.

He held up his hand, more out of ritual than discomfort, and passed through the warming flash of golden air as he entered his bathroom. It held his own sink, toilet, and most importantly right now a shower which he promptly stepped into. Pressing his palm onto the shower's activation panel, he felt his gut drop and his body tense beneath the wash of cold that covered his body in an instant. Peeling off his thoroughly soaked clothes, he laid them with little care over the top of the door-frame, letting the droplets of cold water rinse away beads of sweat. The morning ritual he'd come to enjoy in garrison, soon ended and he reentered his room, finding that upon the desk his tablet demanded his attention.

Walking slowly over to the desk, he draped his towel across his shoulders, a hand pressing the fabric against his head as his eyes dropped to regard the icon of the new message. Command had sent it, or more likely a certain aide attached to her. His eyes narrowed as he let the towel drop and picked up the tablet. Thumbing through the message, he let his lips press into a narrow line, setting the tablet back down onto the table before turning and entering his closet to dress. There was to be a briefing at 1000 Hours, and he was expected to be there.

A short while later, the man stood in line, his uniform clean as his body and his morning grooming done to the standard beyond he errant locks of brown hair which hung down over his face. That'd be a scolding from the commander for sure, but his mind didn't dwell on the thought as he received the morning meal rations and moved through the dining facility. Eyes eventually settling down on a pair of familiar faces that now were sitting at a table nearby. Walking up, the older man looked down towards first Leon, and then Jack, giving both a friendly smile before pointing with a downward index finger at the table," Got room for one more?"
Last edited by Kassaran on Sun Apr 14, 2019 7:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The Knockout Gun Gals
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Knockout Gun Gals » Mon Apr 15, 2019 11:17 pm

GAMA North American Division
Spring, 2047
Sayaya Sakamoto


Sayaya woke up in her room. She pondered on her current situation. She's now a Valkyrie herself, part of the GAMA. With her own mech, and with a bunch of comrades. Plenty of comrades, and soon, enemies to be slaughtered. Close combat, eyes to eyes and tooth to tooth. She moved to the shower room, where she took a nice moment of shower, before moving ahead to the mess hall. The American foods are a welcome sight, not necessarily the best, but still took her quite nice.

After the mess hall's eating (thought she noticed some who still in the hall, but she didn't quite enjoy eating and talking at the similar moment), she walked to the briefing room. At 1000, there are already other Valkyries. She saluted the officer, before taking the middle seat.
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Xing
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Postby Xing » Tue Apr 16, 2019 5:51 pm

Leon and Jack looked up from their meals at their fellow pilot and then to each other, quickly confirming with each other of the situation. Leon curiously raised an eyebrow to Jack, to which he simply responded with a subtle shrug and a nod. Leon looked back to Victor while Jack returned his attention to his food.

"Yeah, plenty of room for a fellow pilot." Leon responded gesturing to the open seat at the table. In between bites of food, Jack looked over to Leon and Victor to show that his silence didn't show a disinterest in the conversation. "So I trust you're just as eager to hear what this briefing is going to be about later today?"

The prospect of a conversation with a fellow pilot momentarily distracted Leon from his previous intensity for quickly getting to the briefing. If they weren't the only two that hadn't arrived, there was a better chance that things hadn't already begun. He reached for his drink, and raised it to his lips, still generally looking in Victor's direction. Meanwhile, with Leon's attention diverted elsewhere, Jack's gaze slowly drifted down toward's Leon's plate. That extra strip of bacon he had received still sat in the corner of his tray, nestled perfectly in the closest corner to him. Jack carefully inched his fork closer toward's his fellow pilot's tray, attempting to slide in just below the boy's arm and line of sight to claim his well deserved prize.
The Reincarnated Empire of Xing, back in the flesh.
It is pronounced "Shing". You wouldn't believe how many times I've had it pronounced wrong.

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Kassaran
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Founded: Jun 16, 2013
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Kassaran » Wed Apr 17, 2019 8:32 am

As Leon talked, Jack watched. It was a familiar old pattern to Victor, but one that he enjoyed seeing unfold in person. Nodding as he tucked into his tray of rations, he took a few attempts at chewing what had been some of the oatmeal on the tray before washing it down with the coffee he'd procured. Noting a bit of sidelong ambition coming from Jack, Victor only let the ghost of a boyish smile cross his face as he endeavored to become a co-conspirator and spoke," Well, given that I've some time to show still and that Christie isn't going to let a word slip outside, I'm quite curious. Got any guesses for me, or better?"

A hand moved up towards Victor's face, propping it up as he let his fork bring another spoonful of mush towards his mouth. An overall fruitless endeavor, but one he intended to make an attempt at before acknowledging his mistake by action. The faces of the two younger Valkyries before him were familiar in their intensity and expressions. He'd once known faces like theirs, ambitious and full of wanderlust, humor, and happiness. There was a brief, almost fleeting thought that skirted his peripheral vision, his eyes catching the hint of a familiar old face in the many faces around him. His mind only needed to pause for a moment in the act of searching to remember the fruitlessness of the action, and his view slid back towards the two boys before him.
Beware: Walls of Text Generally appear Above this Sig.
The Teutonic Republic wrote:"Hammer" in Russian means "Dicks" in Finnish.

This can't be a coincidence
Korva wrote:Q: How effective would this thing be if we assume it would be very effective?
A: Very effective
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG.
Same goes for Task Force Rainbow.

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.
Currently Enlisted in the United States Army.

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Sraelyn
Attaché
 
Posts: 88
Founded: Jan 02, 2017
New York Times Democracy

Postby Sraelyn » Wed Apr 17, 2019 2:37 pm

Alexandre Durant
Fort Carlon
GAMA North American Division


Alexandre threw two jabs followed by a left hook, all of them blocked, before he moved to his right and away from his opponent. The other guy’s guard was good, better than his actually. He managed to hit a couple of times sure, but received quite a few more. Alexandre used the brief respite to move his forearm across his face, removing some of the sweat that bathed him and the blood running from his nose. “Fils de pute” he muttered. His breathing was getting faster and his arms heavy, while blood pulsed through his veins. He was quite enjoying this, thrilled actually. He loved a good fight, but this looked like one that would end shortly, one way or another. His adversary had better form overall, and slowly but surely he was being bested by the man that was now moving closer to finish this. He blocked a series of jabs and an uppercut, yet he felt every punch pounding across his whole body, as his guard grew weaker. It would be now or never, and he would give it his all. He surged forward and jabbed at his enemy’s guard before throwing a swing at his jaw, missing by an inch and leaving him open for a counterattack. His opponent didn’t doubt and swung back at him. Bingo, he was ready for it. Alexandre moved his head backwards, barely avoiding it, before pressing hard on his right leg and throwing and downwards cross to his face, connecting with the jaw and staggering him long enough to launch forwards with a knee to their left side, sending the man to the ground.

“Yeah, stay down.” He let down a muffled grunt in celebration as the soldier clutched his abdomen. Another spar won. A fellow soldier rushed to help Martinez up and ushered him out of the ring. They probably wouldn’t spar again, which was somewhat of a pity since Alexandre was running out of people to spar with, but that was mostly his fault. He wasn’t the cleanest of fighters, and his tendency to go over the top while sparring didn’t garner him many friends from the soldiers at the base. Yet he didn’t care for it, he had won, and that’s all that mattered.

Sparing has become somewhat of a morning routine for him. After walking up he would go for a run and hit the gym after that, ready to train and fight whoever was still willing to. In his mind it was the best way to start a day. By 900 hours he had already left the gym, bruised and sweaty yet pleased. He had an hour left to shower, dress, get some breakfast and haul himself to the briefing room. Once he was clean he dressed in fatigues and a white shirt, although leaving his jacket unbuttoned. He had somewhat of a disheveled look, which certain people didn’t particularly approve of, but he cared little for it. Once ready he headed to the cafeteria for some toast and a cup of coffee, rushing through breakfast as he did most mornings. The food was dreadful, Yanks couldn’t brew a proper cup even if their life depended on it, yet he drank it nonetheless as it still managed to somewhat do it’s job.

He arrived at the briefing room with a few minutes to spare, punctuality wasn’t his forte but he made the effort to arrive on time this time, finding most other pilots already there. “Morning” he said as he slouched on a chair at the back of the room. “You think we are finally going on a mission?”

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Xing
Minister
 
Posts: 2509
Founded: Apr 02, 2013
Democratic Socialists

Postby Xing » Thu Apr 18, 2019 4:52 pm

The excitement and intensity in Jack's expression grew as his little infiltration mission grew closer to completion. He had already made it to Leon's tray unnoticed up until this point, all he needed to do was extract his prize and sneak back out. Meanwhile Leon continued to pick away at his food while still conversing with his fellow pilot.

"Sadly I don't." Leon replied. "I'm just as lost as you are. I hope it's something interesting though. Clearing out small towns is important, but it's not nearly as exciting as the bigger cities or combating someone like the SoC."

Leon followed up his response with a swift jab with his fork into one of the remaining strips of bacon on his tray, his fork coming within centimeters of impaling Jack's hand. Jack's eyes shot wide open in horror at the close call, and swiftly pinched the remaining strip of bacon and pulled his arm back to his own tray.

"What about you Jack? Any ideas?" Leon asked, still unaware of the theft that occurred. Jack's face quickly returned to it's usual flat expression, betraying the sense of satisfaction felt within.

"Probably just more of the same stuff we usually do. We're sent somewhere, we clean it out, we go home. I just hope it's somewhere scenic." Jack finished his statement by taking a bite of his stolen food with a look of subdued pride on his face.
The Reincarnated Empire of Xing, back in the flesh.
It is pronounced "Shing". You wouldn't believe how many times I've had it pronounced wrong.

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Kassaran
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9822
Founded: Jun 16, 2013
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Kassaran » Thu Apr 18, 2019 7:40 pm

There was only a single reaction that Victor could give as he watched the fork flick out across the plate and spear a strip of meat within an inch of Jack's hand, his eyebrow raised by about half a centimeter and then returned to it's usual resting place. His eyes followed Leon's gaze as the man appraised Jack's natural stealthiness. He hadn't known the boys for too long, but he smiled warmly at the secret mission he'd seen carried out under great peril to Jack's well-being. As Leon and Jack spoke, Victor took the chance to grab his spoon and begin wolfing down more of his food with ravenous delight and seasoned practice.

As he managed to finish swallowing down the last of the oatmeal on his tray, he noted the conversation had hit a slight stopping point. The look of masked smugness that flickered across Jack's face as he bit into the strip of bacon was reflected similarly in the lopsided grin which crossed the older soldier's face as he spoke up to fill the emptiness of the moment," Scenery is always good, but I'm partial to good ole-fashion scraps and fights by now- makes for enjoying rest and relaxation all the more."

He lifted a fork to his mouth, shoveling in some of the eggs which had been placed upon his plate, before giving a smile," They always say the best tasting food is that which you've worked the hardest for, or perhaps it was bread only tastes sweeter when stolen? Never really was big on those proverbs."

He managed to fit the last of his eggs on his tray onto his spoon and chewed once, twice, three times and swallowed. Grabbing his water glass, he killed off the rest of the meal he'd brought to the table sans his strip of bacon, which he picked up and casually tore in half before tossing each piece lightly onto each of the boy's trays. Turning to go, he gave a casual wave to both of the younger Valkyries," Enjoy the rest of your breakfast guys, I'll see you at the brief."

It was only a handful of minutes later when the older man walked in, looked around, and chose his usual seat front and center in the room. He didn't mind being the center of attention, and it let him see everything more clearly anyways. Producing from his fatigues an old notebook and a pencil with which to write in it, he sat back in his seat and gave a sweeping look around the room. Perhaps it was simply his vision playing tricks on him, but he could almost have sworn he saw an old familiar pair of blue-grey eyes, before losing the image altogether and looking back towards the front of the room, waiting for the brief to begin.
Beware: Walls of Text Generally appear Above this Sig.
The Teutonic Republic wrote:"Hammer" in Russian means "Dicks" in Finnish.

This can't be a coincidence
Korva wrote:Q: How effective would this thing be if we assume it would be very effective?
A: Very effective
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG.
Same goes for Task Force Rainbow.

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.
Currently Enlisted in the United States Army.

User avatar
United Kingdom of Poland
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6677
Founded: Jun 08, 2012
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby United Kingdom of Poland » Thu Apr 18, 2019 8:37 pm

Nadya grumbled as Yasmine rambled on about their possible mission. She didn't hold the Iranian-American in very high regard, seeing her as yet another airhead who wouldn't last very long in this line of work. "We should be heading in the opposite direction. Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho are where the heart of Judgments Grace lay. Attacking targets there would cripple there operations and allow us to cut the head off the snake."

As she was busy berating her older counterpart, several more of her squadmates had joined them, Alexandre even asking a question. "We'd better be." Nadya replied. "I've spent too long sitting on my ass here doing nothing."


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