ACTIVE Plot Thread- Hab 11-817 "Hall of Virtue"

[Richard]

A statue of the Emperor stands watch over the eastern gate of the Imperial Guard's main base in Naris, though this iteration of mankind's master has seen better days. The Emperors eyes are unblinking, his grip on his sword hilt firm, but corrosion picks at His edges, His armor speckled with patina and verdigris, rust collecting on His divine plate. The fountain at His feet is full of brown muck, covered with a layer of moss. He is scarred and pocked marked by shrapnel, las burns, and caked in dirt upturned by artillery fire. He stares out into the city full of man's enemies, vigilant, but the rising sun casts many shadows, creating thousands of pools of darkness to hide in...

The Guardsmen stationed at the East gate at this early hour gather at the Emperor's feet, to partake of the most holy sacrament they are accustomed to receiving at this stage of the war: the holy Recaf ration, distributed by a weary munitorum officer and an over-eager servitor. One by one, the Guardsmen fill their cups and ready themselves to fulfill their simple duty: monitor their station, receive incoming patrols, and process any refugees, until relieved.

The East Gate is tall, about 10 meters, and thick as the hide of a Baneblade, bracketed by ferrocrete walls 12 meters high, ringed with battlements. Stairways within the walls allow Guardsmen to spill into the battlements or to take post inside the square security towers flanking the main gate. Tents gather around the statue of the Emperor at the gate, as well as the gate itself, full of miscellaneous supplies, personnel, vox units, hidden food rations and lhos tucked away by guardsmen stuck on duty, fueling stations for outbound vehicles, all in a state of perpetual disarray, as units come and go with less and less oversight.

At the moment, all's quiet on the eastern front, as you stand in line for your recaf. You're expecting a patrol of Chimeras to round the bend in less than an hour, but seeing as how the rebels have been pushed far from the base in the last few weeks, you don't expect there to be much in the way of trouble. Today it feels as if the only enemy you'll fight is boredom.

What could go wrong on a quiet morning like this?

[Talancir]

[[is this the signup thread? Or the 'post here' thread?]]

[rodbob]

Colour Sergeant Fothergill-Scott walked crisply towards the statue of the Blessed Emperor, occasionally he stopped to lambast a Guardsman whose uniform was in disarray or who was standing around too casual for the Sergeant's liking.
He approached the recaf station and accepted a cup from the servitor, wincing ever so slighlty as the servitor thrust the cup in his hand and spilled some of the hot liquid over it.
He nodded to the munitorum officer before taking a sip. It wasn't the worst he'd ever had, but was far from good. Still, it was warm and wet, and it took his mind off the boredom.

[DeMarchese]

[[I humbly request permission to join to this adventure]]

[Zink]

[[I'd be down with the joining as Sgt Caerrick, but then again, Talancir's question is still valid. It's worded like its 'post here', but We don't see many roleplays in the roleplay general section, so It's a bit confusing, if anything.]]

[Nevaraon]

[[Id also like to sign up if possible]]

[Johannes Wyss von Krieg]

[[I'd like to join as well. Either as Staggy or Erika. Maybe Duncan but not entirely sure...]]

[blinddeadmcjones]

[[i would also like to join]]

[Talancir]

[[I'm joining but I as yet am at a loss as to which character should be in this.]]

[Tabitha Maru]

(( I'm also interested in joining this ))

[TheRedauthar]

[[Since Cade Lohgan is still busy in Blackwater, I hereby formally request permission to join with my other character: Hera Donovan]]

[Richard]

[[This is the thread folks! Please post away! Go ahead and arrange yourselves in the vicinity as you find most appropriate, within reason. No "I was in the neighborhood, fueling up my Baneblade..." of course, but otherwise, feel free to imagine for yourself why you've been stuck on post down here at the East Gate]]

[DeMarchese]

Recaf.

Aesteban hated that obnoxious substance with all his soul.
Sure, he drink it like the billions upon billions of humans across the Imperium, but he hated it nonetheless. To calculate and measure every dose, every deciliter, every unit... every... day. Despite his best efforts, he has been largely unsuccessful in raising the overall stock of recaf over the daily consumption, thanks in no small part to this greedy and bloated bunch of brutes.
Sometimes, he desired that those uncivilized guardsmen did not drink at all.

So there he was again. Standing behind the servitor and writing on his parchments how many, how much and how often with the occasional grumble at the ready. Woe to the poor soul who drops a single milliliter of that precious dark liquid.

[TheRedauthar]

Hera tries to stifle back a laugh as the Praetorian Es-Gee-Tee has the faintest of wince as he is splashed by his recaf. This only turns to shames as similar, scalding splash burns her hand, and without the experience and decorum of the Color Sergeant, she cannot help but let out a small yelp of pain and surprise. Embarrassed she takes takes her cup and moves away from the line. She finds a lone crate to rest the cup on as she dries the spill off her hand.

[Tabitha Maru]

She glanced up at the statue of the god-emperor as she stood there, huddling in the line for recaf. It was a pity it was in the state it was, it wasn’t right that the statue of their protector was so covered in mud. Maybe you could bring a ladder and a bucket of water and scrub it off? Probably not though, you’d probably need one of those high-pressure hoses for it. Something for another day, perhaps?

She turned her attention back to the queue. Still much too long, seems like she had chosen a poor opportunity to try to get something to drink: at the same time as everyone else. She stood on her toes to get a glimpse on how long the line was, but sank back with a small sigh when she concluded she’d be in the line for many more minutes.

Absently she leaned on the wall next to her while waiting, shuffling along with the line when it did move. Slowly moving towards the promised hot cup of recaf. She found herself pulling out her little bundle of paper and a piece of charcoal and began scribbling her idle thoughts while waiting. A few sketches: of the statue of their immortal protector, of the guardsmen manning the eastern gate, of the official and servitor handing out recaf and… of sergeant Fothergill-Scott as he sipped from his cup. Quick little sketches, like snapshots of life. It made it feel like the queue moved faster.

[blinddeadmcjones]

if levi were to make a list of things he was not expecting, being shortlisted for guard duty was somewhere right near the top. granted it wasn't much different to what he normally did out in the field but being stuck in this one place just felt stifling by comparison, doubly so as his buddy in crime had to be left in the base paddock

so here he was, stuck in line waiting for today's recaff ration. there were a couple of faces he recognised, the praetorian sargeant Fothergill-Scott was up ahead, and private Tabitha Maru was just in front of him - and she seemed to be sketching something - , there were also a couple of people he didn't know but still stood out enough to draw his attention, a blonde girl in PDF uniform, and a silver haired munitorum clerk who looked like he spends every waking hour with a broom up his warp vent, judging from the way he glared and sneered at everyone who received their recaff in between scribbling something down levi figured that he was one of 'those' types.

sighing to himself he briefly looked at the statue and then diverted his attention back towards maru, specifically at the paper she was drawing on

"those are pretty good" he remarked by way of introduction "i'm surprised they didn't shortlist you for becoming a remembrancer"

[Johannes Wyss von Krieg]

On one of the rooftops of the buildings in the East Gate, that long ago was converted to Imperial Guard use as a basic watchtower and first line of defense if the gate falls, accessible by a ladder; unit #9453/8-101 was stationed. The rank of Lieutenant did not describe the unit's actual power as it was all but in name: something to do with the nearly complete decimation of Squad 20 that brought the Captain of the 9453rd company to restrict the scout to the duties and responsibilities of a Specialist.

And here she was, in all of her unmasked glory: Erika Hass catching a tan and welcoming the warmth of the rising sun. (Well, as much as a tan the average Kriegerin could possibly have.)
Being assigned as a sniper to the Gate meant one thing: shooting any runner that may pass in or out of the city without proper inspections. The Kriegerin was instructed to maim or injure as well as only on command -spies were coerced, trained and dispatched only to be mistaken for a runner and get shot, so without explicit order the Kriegerin had no other orders.

This time, she decided on something quite risky: not only she removed the rebreather unit (for the obvious ease of identifying and shooting targets) and gloves, but also rolled up the sleeves to reveal the pale barely-rosy skin tone that was on her face. Being posted for double-shift she already had her 1/2 recaff Krieg Standard Ration; the empty metal mug rested by her side. The loaded and fire ready Long-las was in a firing position, from the ground below it could appears as a stray pipe protruding from the roof for the untrained eye as a Snipers' job is mostly waiting hidden -but always ready.

[Nevaraon]

Clad in the full splendor of his warplate, shield, sword and shotgun hanging from various straps on his body. Sir Creedanfall "Croaker" Vervusius strode into the gate area. His grinning skull helm was under his left arm, and his unhindered head took in the chill morning breeze with a bright smile. It was good to be alive, especially on a morning like this. Having finished morning drills with some of the newer recruits earlier than expected, he had decided to go find something to do before his day truely began.

Croaker slid easily into the rear of the recaff line, looking around and noting a few familiar faces. But they, for the most part, seemed distracted and intent on getting their own recaff rations. So he was willing to wait till then to catch up. Not everyone was a morning person like himself.

[Drocol Ritter von Krieg]

The Watchmaster collects his recaf and departs the line, leaving the Guardsman behind him to move forward and take his cup from the Servitor. The Krieger looks around to find familiar faces all around him, huddled in groups or by themselves. #28-D walks to a wall and leans on it, watching the line shuffle towards the Servitor, he adjusts his hat to get a full view of his surroundings.

[CyGamer]

Grumbling as the damnable recaff machine continued to sputter hot foam and offered only a grating of gear, Chirigus began the holy rite again. He was suppose to be down here for repairs and blessing on outgoing tanks, but it would appear that until the recaff machine was functional again, no one would move their damn flesh piles for legs and drive the machines up.

It was one thing to be surrounding by unenlighted fool, they did not know better, and to have them muddle about in the most blessed machines of war. But when they would not stop groaning and complaining, endlessly whining about the wait and doubting his skills, it was insufferable. Three times he'd done the rites, and on every failure the line groaned collectively.

If they kept this up, Chirigus himself would start sputter foam. Along with many other unpleasant things. As he finished the prayer, he put a cup under the spout, pushed the dispense button, and waited as the machine coughed and gurgled. A single drop of recaff fell from it. The line groaned and yelled. The Enginseer growled to himself, contemplating if those in charge would mind if those stationed here were "enlightened" through Arco-Flagellantion. This would be a long day.