[Open / Social] "No Rest for the Weary" - Physical Training / Drill

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Wed Feb 28, 2018 7:14 pm

The slurp caused a good natured eye roll from the commissar, before he settled to drink his recaff. He closed his eyes for a moment as the welcome heat sank into his core.

At #66's response, Cat lowered his cup and stared into the middle distance, attempting to retrieve some faint zen from the quiet morning and cool air. It was a noble attempt. He almost managed.

Heavy steps heralded the arrival of Zoya Makarov, and Yorke's eyes flickered enough to register the movement. His remaining good will evaporated, though his expression barely changed.

Having only just finished dealing with the smoking car wreck that was Aesteban DiMettrio, Cat had hoped to go some time without a reminder of the disciplinary mess he'd been dragged into. And yet here she was.
Hungover, and far less tolerant of his fellow officer than he'd ever been before, Yorke decided to excuse himself.

"It would appear that Commissar Makarov has arrived to return you all to base. Good morning, guardsmen." the cheer in his tone had dropped, and Cat drained the last of his recaff, then disposed of the cup in the tub provided beside the stall. Tipping Phelan, he walked away. The pastry stall was still open, and the commissar decided the last of his spare change would be put to good use picking up a fresh lunch for himself and his aide.

((Cat has left the topic. New PT day will start on Friday.))

Nevaraon
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Postby Nevaraon » Thu Mar 01, 2018 9:20 am

Croaker raised an eyebrow at Cat’s abrupt departure, but knew he’d be crossing a line if he asked anything in front of another Commissar, especially a stickler like Makarov.

“Salutations, milady!” He boomed instead. “It doth be a fair morning! And I doth welcome thine volunteering of thine time from thou’s busy Schedule to exercising with us lowly troops!”

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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Fri Mar 02, 2018 2:04 am

Phelan's eyes drifted as the Commissars performed something of a swap. His eyes not missing the tense mood that settled. In-fighting in the Guard ranks? Recalling what he had thought of his own Commissar and even fellow lieutenants during his own time in the guard, he couldn't really fault them for it. Rivals and friends all in one. The Guard was a strange place indeed.

In any case, he ducked his head politely to Makarov, "Commissar." He greeted with a smile, "It would seem you're up rather early. Would you ca---" There was a brief halt as his eyes dragged after Yorke. And specifically, to where the other Commissar was heading. The Pastry Stall. Damn it.

"--re for a hot cup of 'caff?" He picked up a swift second later. The pause barely perceptible even as he snapped his full attention to the woman standing just a little ways away.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Sun Mar 04, 2018 4:28 am

So they made a few stretching, ran for a few minutes and stopped at this Recaff Vendor for a cup of Caffeinated Beverage?
What is the point of this Training? It does not benefit the Physical Capability in any way; it is way below the most basic requirements to the guard. In Truth, it appears to be an excuse to drink Recaff instead of committing to their assignments. From a Commissar no less?!
The Unit did not voice its concern however. To question direct Authority during deployment is an outright treasonous action, doubly so when the Authority in question is a Commissar.
Instead, the Unit turned to face Makarov "Transferal of Authority Acknowledged. Salutations, Frau Kommissarin."

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Tue Mar 13, 2018 11:08 am

As the group returned to base, Cat watched idly, still feeling the grip of his hangover. Chewing his pastry, he took the opportunity to check in with Phelan once the others had departed.
Before Candlemass, before the shooting and the mutiny, the bookseller had asked that Cat investigate a local issue.

Yorke spent a short while and a second recaff checking that his services were still required. Satisfied he understood the situation, the commissar headed back to base himself, at a leisurely jog. While he'd be loathed to admit it, the interruption had at least allowed Cat to check things over.
Last edited by Commissar Cat on Tue Mar 13, 2018 5:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Aishachan
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Postby Aishachan » Tue Mar 13, 2018 2:08 pm

((obviously this goes before cats post. However he kindly said I could go ahead and post here since he couldn't edit on his phone. Apolosiges if there are mistakes. I typed it on my phone and sorry for the wait. I've been busy moving across country, getting and starting a new job, unpacking ect, ect. Thank you!))

Yorke was just leaving training. He was obviously leading these people in pt and now he was just leaving. She was obviously not on duty and he was just leaving.

'Of course he is.' A bitter, angry, tired part of her mind hissed. But she tamped it down and forced it out. They had differing methods and she didn't agree with his but she couldn't be bitter or accusatory. That lead to fracturing, which was unacceptable. Even so she was sure that everyone there could hear the tightness and frustration in her voice when she spoke.

"Of course, commissar. I would be glad to help." she offered a smile as thin and brittle as ice before looking at the asorted guard. "TROOPERS! 2 minutes before we head out." meanwhile she would be very thankful for the recaff if Phelan would let her come and pay later! She hadn't thought to bring money with her.

But all the troops got more pt! Yay pt! Everyone's favorite thing!
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Currently playing: Zoya Aleksandrovich Makarov
The earnest-est little commissar// But what would a Commissar do? // There's a form for (or on) that!

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Tue Mar 13, 2018 5:48 pm

The next morning was hardly any kinder in terms of weather. Cold mist settled in the distance, and the ground was still hard with ice.
Commissar Yorke stood in full uniform in comparison to the day before. By his feet was a small crate, the loose lid revealing some very simple, hastily printed out maps, and a stack of heavily dented compasses.

Those attending PT today had been given notice to collect a basic cold weather survival kit; the group was going off base.

Hours previously, a conscript volunteer has been sent out with his own, more generously stocked kit, a set of thermal clothing, and instructions to secrete himself in the Narisian countryside ("But if we don't find you by 16:00, head back and recieve extra rations.").
The objective was of course to track and locate the young trooper, rather than cause harm, despite the slight over-enthusiasm from some participants.

((Today's PT is a little different, you'll be hunting everyone's favourite Bacaran. ))

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Tue Mar 13, 2018 10:58 pm

Out in the wilderness of Valmaria, Joseph whistled as he made his way through the undergrowth and around the trees which blanketed the landscape. It was nice to get out of the usual hard labour and just go for a walk. He use to love nothing more than going for a wonder back home. Though to be honest when the Commissar had approach him he had thought it would have been about a certain signature he had come into possession of or about what he was using said signature for. To say he was pleased that it was about something completely different would be a slight understatement.

He had meet the Commissar earlier that morning to gather the items the officer had provided for the task. Although Yorke had said that he would provide all the gear, Joseph still brought his pack to put everything in and his e tool just in case. He had grown use to walking with his pack, any other bag would just feel strange. As he hope over a fallen tree, the Bacaran took a moment to admire his surroundings. Valmaria was rather similar to some of the places back on Te Harinui, which would have been nice. Unfortunately the frosty morning made it too similar to places he had been on Waiberia. Although he had gotten use to low temperatures on that planet, he still shivered at the mere thought of the place.

Checking the time, it was getting close to the hounds bring released. Not keen to be caught so easily, Joseph pushed on down the slop to his front in search of a good hiding spot.

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Postby Riveris » Wed Mar 14, 2018 2:30 am

The Trooper was stretching in his carapace armor. The equine looking head finely recolored with grey and white paint. as a white diamond on its armored plate on its forehead was shown. He left his heavy stubber at his feet. But he did keep his Stehlen bayonet on hand. its blade made a sharp ninety degree turn at its tip and went forward for about an inch before curving back. He was checking the straps and placing of the plates of armor on his body. His gloved hand moving over his webbing and clippings to his large pack on his back. his helmet hanging on around his hip before he would check it. He went over his mental checklist of things in his pack from the cold gear and a few things he brought along with them. if they where going off base he didnt want to be caught with his pants down. Besides better for moving the added weight of his own kit.

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VariableVacancy
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Postby VariableVacancy » Wed Mar 14, 2018 2:50 am

A young guardsman jogged into the training yard. Ever since the violence began, his assignment had been in stuck in bureaucratic limbo, until recently. The day before he was given orders to resume his regular training, and report to the drill-yard the next morning, with survival gear. Douglas couldn't help but feel excited at the chance to leave the city, if only for a few hours.

At the first glimpse of the Commissar's uniform, Douglas froze in his tracks. The only experience that Douglas had with a Commissar was the public executions. He looked around, and decided that he would circle around the base hoping that someone else would arrive in the meantime. If he was lucky, no one would notice...

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Postby Nevaraon » Wed Mar 14, 2018 9:34 am

Unfortunately for poor Douglas, he would feel a small nip at his calf muscle. If he were to look down. He would see a small two legged creature with black and red scales. Not much taller than the height of a man’s knee, the Raptgar hatchling was picking at Douglas’s pants. It would cock it’s head to the side, peer up at him with a piercing avian eye.

It wore a brown leather vest with a leash attached to it. On the other end of the leash, was Knight Lieutenant Havelock Stethel. He held the leashes to 4 other hatchlings as well. Though they stood clustered around Havelock, unlike the curious one at Douglas’s feet.

Young one, Return. Havelock chirped at the hatchling, who, after a moment, ran back to the Raptgar Master. Looking to Douglas, Havelock’s strangely slitted and gem-like eyes immediately would remind the man of the hatchling’s eyes.

“I apologize, hatchlings are curious about the world.” He said slowly, as if unwilling to speak. Havelock would continue walking as if not caring whether the hatchlings had offended or not.

Havelock approached the Commissar, showing no apprehension. He had heard enough stories about Cat to know the general temperament of the Commissar.

“I thank you for allowing me to take part in this hunt. It’s hard enough to find willing participants for my hatchlings.” He said abruptly, offering Cat a smile that seemed too much. Like someone who was trying to imitate an emotion he didn’t quite understand.

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Fri Mar 16, 2018 8:21 am

[[After Completing former PT.]]
30 minutes have passed since they were dismissed, Unit #316 gasped for air, extending her hand against a nearby wall to halt her collapse.
Her Consciousness was again forcefully placed at the driver's seat, in the same manner it was ejected from by the Combat Mechanism.
She knew where she was, back on base inside the secure perimeter, after the PT, where chances for combat encounters are very low that allow the release from the combat automaton, a witness to every action it commits and can influence it by arguing logically and stir its action to a certain direction.
No matter how much sway she has over the automaton, Lurching power over her own body is and always will be an uncomfortable feeling.

[[This PT entry]]

Moving into the sight, invisible until mere metres away, the white black and grey Scout approached the courtyard (?), even and calm intakes of air through respirator coupled with the odd crunch of snow beneath its feet announced its arrival as the Krieg Unit materialised into the vicinity. Clad in full Carapace, appropriately coloured Greatcoat and Cameleoline Cloack made this white-skulled unit blend into the environment eerily too well.
"Unit #9453/8-316 Reporting for Search and Destroy Exercise" the towering Scout announced, weapons in full view but unloaded.

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Mon Mar 19, 2018 1:44 pm

Commissar Yorke was notably more awake and alert than his previous presence at PT, free from his hangover and some of his resentment towards the world at large.
He began cheerfully handing out the compasses and maps to those assembled.

Spotting Douglas skirting the courtyard, he recognised a shirker, and gestured for the guardsman to come closer, tossing him a worn compass in an under-arm throw. Smiling, Cat lightly toed the box by his feet, "You may enjoy this one. We're going off base to test tracking ability while getting some air."

At Havelock's arrival, the commissar watched the small creatures accompanying him. Yorke had always declared himself not to be a fan of animals, despite his nickname. But that didn't stop creatures great and small from finding him oddly magnetic. Perhaps due to him being the tallest thing available to climb, or his humming and guyliner meaning that Cat was potentially mistaken for a cinematic princess.

Cat very gently dissuaded a determined Raptgar chick from nestling under his great coat with a slow and patient sweep of his foot, "It's no problem, sir. Just they must understand Omen isn't actually prey, he must not be nibbled excessively."
Reaching down and distracting the small reptile with a tickle from his bionic hand, the commissar handed Havelock his map and compass.

Addressing the whole group, Yorke kept it simple, "We will be tracking Joseph Omen, our volunteer. He is not to be harmed. If you become separated, return to base and log your return at the gate. There is no punishment for getting lost, but I will remember who actually manages to complete the activity!"

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rodbob
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Postby rodbob » Wed Mar 21, 2018 2:58 am

Colour Sergeant Fothergill-Scott

The Sergeant strolled over towards Commissar Yorke and snapped a crisp salute. Fothergill-Scott wore his grey Praetorian greatcoat over his scarlett uniform.

"Sir, I figured I'd join your little excursion."
He said as he checked his wooden stock las rifle and shouldered it.

"How much of a head start does our quarry have?"
Doing the work of the Emperor is its own reward.

Characters: Colour Sergeant Fothergill-Scott
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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Wed Mar 21, 2018 6:07 am

"Herr Kommissar, what are the Target's Provisions and for how long will they last?" #9453/8-316 asked. She was a Krieg Soldier, if she couldn't catch the target with speed, which is unlikely as it is, simple Attrition will suffice.

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Postby Nevaraon » Wed Mar 21, 2018 8:35 am

Havelock glanced at the compass and map that he was handed. Then smoothly stoked them both in an inner pocket of his tabard. He had done enough rides in the local area to know it well by now.

“They should be alright, Commissar. This clutch hasn’t been blooded yet. They still only play fight. At most your volunteer will get some nips at his heels. Unless he falls down, then he may lose part of an ear or nose. If He riles then up. Either way, I’ll be close by to stop them.”

After being shooed away from the Commissar, several of the excited hatchlings hopped around Havelock’s feet before making a dash for the warmth of a grey standard issue Greatcoat. Havelock didn’t notice their new target of interest, because he was turning to the Sgt. Hopefully the krieger wouldn’t have too bad a reaction to a flock of chicken sized bipedal lizards chirping at them.

“Will we be expecting danger Sgt? I am given to understand that the local forest is quite safe.” Havelock asked curiously. He patted his holstered laspistol. “I didn’t bring any of my usual armaments.”

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rodbob
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Postby rodbob » Wed Mar 21, 2018 4:16 pm

Colour Sergeant Fothergill-Scott

He looked at Havelock's 'flock' with some bemusement for a moment or two. Before answering.

"Oh the rifle's for our quarry." He said with a small smile and showed the man the power dial, turned down to a non lethal setting.
Doing the work of the Emperor is its own reward.

Characters: Colour Sergeant Fothergill-Scott
Fusillier Thomas "Geordie" Armstrong

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VariableVacancy
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Postby VariableVacancy » Fri Mar 23, 2018 2:07 am

Unfortunately for poor Douglas, he would feel a small nip at his calf muscle. If he were to look down. He would see a small two legged creature with black and red scales.


Douglas shrieked as he jumped away from the nipping, "What in Emperors name is that thing!" He looked back up just in time to catch the compass with two fumbling hands, and to feel a rock sink into his stomach. Douglas snapped himself to attention, saluting the comissar.

"I... uh... um," Douglas took a deep breath to calm his stammer."Trainee Douglas Bubnut reporting, sir!"

The young guardsman kept his upright posture as the others walked in.

"Oh the rifle's for our quarry." He said with a small smile and showed the man the power dial, turned down to a non lethal setting.


"Uhm sir, has the volunteer been instructed to resist or evade capture? I was not aware that this would be a live fire exercise."

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Sat Mar 31, 2018 2:45 am

Commissar Yorke clapped his hands together once, and signalled for the assembled group to pay attention, "Okay, it may have been unclear, so let me restate... We are not shooting Private Omen. He's concealed, but he's not going to put up resistance. He may move if the weather means he must, but this is a tracking exercise, not a weapons training drill." addressing Erika, Cat added, "And he has orders to return before nightfall if not found. As do we all."

Raising his hand, the commissar smiled, "So let's start!" he set off with a jog toward the exit of the courtyard, less burdened than the average guardsmen partaking, and carrying only a satchel, though dressed in full stormcoat.

Reaching the outer gate, Cat halted to allow the group to catch up, and ushered them into a waiting taurox transport.
"No point in wasting half the morning getting out there." he smiled and banged on the back of the cab to signal everyone was loaded, "Fast as you like, fella."

*

After one rather over enthusiastic ride across the Narisian landscape, you are unceremoniously disgorged into the snowy countryside, the driver only pausing for a moment to shake hands with Yorke before departing once more. It dawns upon you that it's entirely possible that this trip wasn't exactly sanctioned. Cat's methods generally boiling down to appearing to have the authority to perform his current actions at all times.

On the border of a large field, the sound around you is muffled, the snow as yet untrod, and the trees silent as there is no wind to push them.
Ahead are thin patches of woodland, concealing streams and ditches, thankfully the snow is not so deep as to make running as difficult as the previous morning.

With a bounce in his stride, the commissar leads you to an old stone wall, and rests against it, "And now we really begin."

(( Clever or Sneaky rolls to look for signs of Joseph. You need a 2 ))

(( Anyone may still join, just say that you were with us all along.))

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Sat Mar 31, 2018 3:50 am

Joseph had found just what he was looking for. The perfect spot for his cunning plan. He was luck to stumble onto it so quickly allowing him the luxury of a good rest. It was good to just chill out without worrying about someone verbally abusing him if they caught him. Sure, there was a pt season worth of people trying to hint him down, but he still had time. He had been enjoying a nice bit of jerky he had been given in his rations and was almost done with the impromptu breakfast. The Bacaran knew it could lead then to him, but that was the point, wasn't it? Give them signs, but don't make it easy. Anyway, it was all a part of the plan.

Looking up through the trees, he saw that the day was brightening up. He best get a move on. Joseph stood up, to good care to make sure any crumbs left over were left hear, picked up his large pack and began to make his way to the spot he had found. Now it was time to employ his cunning.


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