Active Plot Thread- The Wall

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Tabitha Maru
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Postby Tabitha Maru » Tue Nov 06, 2018 4:20 pm

Tabitha lifted her goggles as she sank down on her knees next to Jospeh's unconcious body, her violet eyes the only dash of colour with everything else covered in a think white-grey cake of mud and dust. At first she feared the worst but let out a deep sigh of relief when she saw him still drawing breath and open his eyes. The emperor had indeed protected them. By all accounts they should all be dead by now, her friend most of all. But here they were.. Alive.

"Hey... don't try to get up. I'll get you a medic. Just lie still and don't move

Medic! Over here!

I was afraid for you there... what were you thinking attacking that thing with a tool!? Brave fool... probably saved all of us"

She gave him a warm smile as a Unseen Son medic arrived to take a look at him. Whatever faults the other regiment had, now they were here with aid and with relief. That was all that mattered right now. Once the medic got to work she looked up at the husk of the suit. Letting her eyes wander over the mechanical monster for a moment, seeing the cut fuel line that was the reason Joseph was still alive. She gave her friend a quick reassuring pat on the arm, and got to her feet. Feeling there was someone else she needed to help

She took a few fast steps over to lieutenant Brinton lying in the mud. He was in pain, that much was obvious. Seeing how he struggled to move properly. She reached down and held out her hand to him, offering him her help to get up.

"Let me help lieutenant. Can't have the hero of the hour lying in the mud, can we?"

She offered him a smile, and tried to support him as best she could as she helped him up. Brushing some off the mud off of his uniform. Doing her best to help him maintain as much of his dignity as possible. Subtly trying to offer him a pain suppressor if he wanted. Whispering to him as she did so: "Thank you... for saving my friend."
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Postby Commissar Cat » Tue Nov 06, 2018 11:30 pm

In an almost statuesque pose, spoiled somewhat by his arm hanging limp against his side, Cat stood gazing down over the rubble-strewn edge of the wall. His unfocused stare both took in everything and nothing.
His eyes drifted across the courtyard, from the strange scene with Aesteban and Carmine crouched beside a xeno corpse, to the twin crisis suits finally meeting their ends, despite his comrades bearing the rough end of it.

Despite seeing it all unfold, all he felt was physically chilly.
He shuddered lightly, still shaking. Yorke wasn't sure if the wind and rain muted out what was happening below, or if he was disconnecting a little more by the minute, but he was aware that at least, the screams weren't audible.
But as the punisher cannon opened fire, the commissar watched. Unable to turn his eyes away as it tore through the rebels, that he could hear. All too well.


The rather blue scene that Halvus had painted as the final suit was dispatched, was now a little diminished by a grim splattering in the background, as Yorke blanched and lost his already tenuous grip on his breakfast.
Cat was doubled over at the lip of the wall, attempting to cover his mouth to no avail as he heaved again.

Suddenly aware quite how close he was to the edge, once he stopped retching, Yorke scrambled backwards at speed.
"Shit." physically drained, but now at least cogent enough to be mildly embarrassed, the commissar slogged over to where Vayne was waiting, and sat down beside his aide, leaning against the wall section that both men had stubbornly failed to dislodge, and resting his arm on his knees.

He said nothing. At some point people would notice his absence. At some point he would have to go downstairs, they both would.
But for now, he buried his face in his arm and screamed.

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Postby Fates End » Wed Nov 07, 2018 12:21 am

That was very likely a stupid thing to dare to say to a Commissar of all people. She knew it as soon as she said it, but something defiant sparked in December's mind. So what? What could he do that wasn't already promised?


There was a freedom she enjoyed, in being a member of the Death Korps. A freedom of thought. When you know you're going to die, what should be terrifying . . . suddenly isn't.

But there were wounded below and the Commissar had given orders. Orders, unless mindlessly stupid, were to be obeyed. With the Commissar's aid she was able to see again, even if a pounding headache was building in the back of her skull and her vision swam if she moved too quickly. It wasn't enough to keep her down, and there were others who were more worthy of medical attention. The helmet and skull-faced mask came back on and she followed the Sergeant down to the breach where she immediately set about scanning for wounded.

In all the smoke and damp, it was hard to make out distinctive wounds, or even if someone was alive or dead. But she did her best to sort out who needed her attention most, coordinating with the newly arriving Medics to set about their dreadful shared charge.

((Rolled Clever to see how speedily her mind can assess triage, -2 +3 for a total of 1.

And then Quick for how fast she can work. 0 +2 for a total of 2))
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

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Postby Nevaraon » Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:20 am

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Postby blinddeadmcjones » Wed Nov 07, 2018 2:34 am

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Postby Furbnus » Wed Nov 07, 2018 7:54 am

Holland watches the carnage unfold before him, and gives a grimacing smile as he realizes the unthinkable is happening before his eyes. A commisar just told them to stay out of the way his gun, and then shot more of the enemy than guardsmen. When the artillery finally finishes it's angry hammering of the earth, and Holt finishes being angry in general he gives a brief survey of the devastation that has been wrought and can only wonder how much paperwork he's going to have to do. When this is finished he walks to Halvus, not even noticing her rallying speech and gives a tug on her arm and then gestures to his own not-arm, "I... Uh" It is now that Holland allows himself the luxury to faint.

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Postby Zeppo » Wed Nov 07, 2018 7:11 pm

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Postby DeMarchese » Thu Nov 08, 2018 2:13 pm

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Postby Commissar Cat » Fri Nov 09, 2018 9:53 am

In the relative serenity afforded by the top of the wall and the weather, Yorke had eventually calmed down, and sat beside his aide contemplating how long they could remain missing.
The distinctive shrill tone of a certain Narisian Noble losing his shit entirely sounded above the hum of activity and wind. Cat massaged rain and grit out of his eyes. Precisely this long.

Standing up, Cat took Vayne's arm for support, and wandered back down to the gatehouse in a slightly dreamlike state. By the time they'd descended down three flights, the commissar had stepped back into reality, his mind slotting back into time with the surrounding chaos.
Leaving Cassius with an unusually polite request to recover the information that the two nobles had collected, and make a second copy, Cat then pulled out Ema's captured rebel from under the table where he'd been stowed, and handcuffed him to the desk leg for good measure.

Yorke pondered where to take the captive.
Malice, if left unchecked would lead the commissar to hand the rebel over to the true Unseen Sons. But any information gleaned likely wouldn't reach the rest of the base. If taken to Holt by way of Brinton, undoubtedly the rebel would crack, but again, the information may not reach anyone else. Cat was growing tired of the lack of transparency.
As much as he hated it, Cat realised that there was a less obvious answer. Sighing, he set out to find the man he'd spent the morning aggravating to the best of his ability.

++ Lieutenant DiMettrio, I have need of your assistance, when you're able. We left something unfinished in the gatehouse office. ++ worth a try.

Stepping outside, the commissar watched the flurry of Second Sons attending casualties. Walking slowly, he moved through the flow naturally, unnoticed.
For a moment Cat considered finding the source of the screaming, but realised his presence was likely to only make things worse.

Instead Yorke trotted over to where the Unseen Sons were flowing from. He realised that he cut a less than formal figure, his coat in tatters at the shoulder, his entire uniform covered in a mix of grit, soot and at least one other person's blood.
But Cat suspected that the worst of the day had only just started for the Unseen Sons, and he was better trying to speak to them before the rest of the screaming started.

Locating Captain Ullan, the commissar saluted loosely in greeting, "Captain, I'm afraid to report the men you left at the gate were murdered, I'm... not sure if it was xeno or rebels disguised as your own." although sincere, Cat wasn't certain how much the Unseen Sons cares about any one individual.
"There's a mountain of horsefuckery gone down, we caught folk masquerading as your men setting charges under the gatehouse." Yorke looked up into the grey clouds, tired, "I figure for parity, you should at least know what's on the wind."

"We caught one of the rebels alive, and as far as I know, he still is." eyes, one dark, the other blood red, both ringed with exhaustion, settled back on the officer. But rather than accusatory, or the usual Commissariat glower, the expression was curious and seemingly unguarded.

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Postby Richard » Sat Nov 10, 2018 1:10 pm

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Postby Commissar Cat » Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:57 am

Cat saw the confusion in Captain Ullan's face, and while the commissar wasn't certain it was sincere, he wasn't certain the man was a good enough actor to pull off anything so convincing either. He took the moment and rolled with it, curious at the insight the Unseen Son could offer, before everything became mired in an investigative clusterfuck.
"There were contradicting ord-" his voice became immediately lost in the bickering as Brinton arrived, and the commissar grit his teeth.
"Look. Can you just not." he hissed, but the words either went unheard or were simply not pointed enough to pierce either man's ego.

Then just as it began, it ended. For several heartbeats Yorke stood and watched in frozen silence as the captain's blood seeped across the sodden ground under his boot treads, the spatter of the initial bolt shell lost amid the mix of dirt and blood already coating his uniform.
For the second time this day, Cat found the absurdity of the situation overtook him, and he laughed audibly. But with it came a flash of unexpected anger, seemed to burst out from his centre, via the only outlet available.

"What the actual FUCK is WRONG with you people?" Yorke, rounded on Holt and Brinton, snarling, fingertips of his free hand loosely caging his forehead in a stiff gesture of exasperation.
"WHY must you make it so hard for the rest of us with this divisive horseshit?" his voice didn't raise much, but the sheer force behind it, and his severe facial expression were deeply unfamiliar to anyone who had encountered Cat before. Yet they fit him all too well.
"You're so Throne-damned detached that YOU won't even have to live with the fallout from that." he held his hand out towards Ullan in the mud, and swept it towards the Unseen Sons, "You thought we had problems before? You leave the rest of us dealing with the day to day from the 'them and us' shit that YOU both fucking foster despite being leaders."

Cat attempted to breathe, the air icy hot in his chest and throat, his face still hard with anger, but he clenched his jaw shut as if to try and seal the rest back where it came from. Some element of situational awareness apparently tempered his actions just enough to cut the flow short.
He shook his head a fraction, the fire now burned out as suddenly as it blew in, "There is no 'them'. Just us. Whether we all embrace that or not."

His eyes flicked from the officers to the mixture of guardsmen nearby, unsurprised at how few gazed back. He knew even acknowledging his outburst was likely more dangerous for them than for Yorke.

(( Have PMed a roll to the GM, will edit it in to the post once this eventually resolves. ))
Last edited by Commissar Cat on Sun Nov 11, 2018 8:35 am, edited 3 times in total.

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Postby Nevaraon » Sun Nov 11, 2018 4:49 am

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Postby blinddeadmcjones » Sun Nov 11, 2018 8:56 am

Her speech finished, Halvus holstered her laspistol and considered what to do next when Holland fainted right next to her, on reflex she reached out and grabbed hold of him before he hit the ground, "at ease guardsman" she said quietly before moving the unconscious corporal towards the nearest medic with some discomfort -discomfort that she dismissed as being due to her injuries-, pausing only when she heard the telltale sound of a bolt pistol being discharged and even then it was only to flick a piece of brain matter (formerly belonging to captain ullan) off of her shoulder plate before she continued onward until she reached where the medics were gathering the wounded, noticing joseph among them.

"a pickaxe against a battlesuit..." the lieutenant mused as she deposited holland into the experienced hands of the combat medics "you certainly have some hidden talents there." halvus was brought out of her musing by a coughing fit, having forgotten about the dust she had inhaled and her cracked ribs until that moment, one of the medics came to tend to tend to her but the lieutenant quickly waved them off "i'm fine i'm fine" she remarked while dismissing them her eyes set on the downed dropship.

ambling over to the tau craft she worked her way through the cadians as best she could until she was in front of the suit that hadn't deployed, grabbing onto the chestplate panel that covered the cockpit with her powerfist the lieutenant pulled, but despite her best efforts it wouldn't budge an inch, reluctantly she let go and stood to one side as she felt a bit light headed, looks like i lost a few more pints than i thought. halvus thought as she steadied herself, doing her level best to ignore the throbbing pain coming from her ribcage while she oversaw the guardsmen work to open up the suit

[[ Alric3386: halvus in wall, trying to get the cockpit panel off of the 3rd battlesuit
Alric3386 rolls 4u1 = -2 +0 forceful +1 powerfist = -1
Alric3386: and trying to remain conscious
Alric3386 rolls 4u1 = 3]]
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Postby Fates End » Sun Nov 11, 2018 1:39 pm

December had a knack for listening in, it was a trait that had served her well throughout her life. One might even say that it was her ability to listen that had saved her life more times than she could count. Thus even as she was patching up one of the wounded guardsmen, she was close enough to hear the altercation between the officers punctuated by a boltgun.

That should have made her flinch, she thought with a sort of depressed acceptance even as she didn't flinch in the slightest. Without even looking she knew what had happened, someone had failed and a Commissar had rectified the manner in the only way most of them seemed to know how. But then Commissar Yorke spoke up . . .

Oh hell, he's gonna get himself shot too . . .

Before she even realized what she was consciously doing, she had finished with the guardsman she was working on and was moving at speed towards the officers. She had to have a plan, she couldn't make them look bad. But there was a very real possibility that Cat might get shot, and that didn't seem quite right considering he'd just saved her life. She couldn't get in between them, that would strike of insubordination and likely annoy the senior Commissar even further. No, she had to try something else. Anything else. She clamped down in the yammering warning bells in her mind and surged forward, soaked greatcoat squelching and squishing with every step.

"Commissar Yorke," She called out as she approached the grouping, trying her best to seem that she hadn't heard anything of import. Just a medicae doing her job. "The techpriests will have to do for your arm, but I need to inspect the site where it melds with the rest of you, make sure the plasma didn't burn its way through." She came up alongside Yorke, next to his damaged arm. "That battlesuit nearly killed you. You're lucky to be alive." She stated loudly before pausing as if she just saw Holt. "Senior Commissar, sir." She stammered out awkwardly, saluting sharply a moment later and coming to attention. Everything in her body strained to appear as though she hadn't realized they were even speaking. Just a medicae. Doing her job. Lost in thought.

"Apologies for the interruption, sir. But I need to look to Commissar Yorke's arm as soon as possible . . ."

((Rolled Clever to try and distract on Yorke's behalf/play up the fact he's wounded. 0 +3 from stat for a total of 3))
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

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Postby SilverRuby » Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:09 pm

The frustration of abject failure to dislodge the fragment of the wall was quickly overcome as Yorke saved him a second time, leaving him shaking and unable to find it in himself to move. He could very well have been dead in the face of enemy fire when the Commissar pulled him to safety. With the rumbling and the continual fire of weapons and debris around him, it was all Cassius could do to cover his head and bemoan the fact that he wasn't in full armor, having only been expecting office-work and the war front much further from the base.

It felt like an eternity of rumbling and shaking that would never end- a small whimper escaped him as Vayne huddled there hoping that no stray grenade or hail of bullets would find him.


When it all finally subsided and Yorke returned to him, he couldn't help the confused stare at the older man as the other seemed unusually out of control of himself, screaming into the sleeve of his coat. Thankfully for Cat's dignity, Vayne's ears were still ringing from all the thudding fire and the thundering of explosions... And he quietly complied when Ray boosted him, wobbling back to his feet and was coaxed into following the Commissar back downstairs.

Returning to the gatehouse, Cassius reached out, quietly asking for Yorke's dataslate, as Aesteban had confiscated his with the initial copies made of contradicting directives. He busied himself with trying to find a working cogitator, plugging in his slate to pull information down again before it could be lost, making a copy. Having remembered where he and DiMettrio had earlier found the records, it took little time for him to extract the same orders.

The Quartermaster was completely unaware of the spectacle outside, until he heard a final shot, and could very well feel the silent tension that had fallen over the collected guard and wounded. With an uncomfortable feeling low in his gut, Cassius collected the data-slate to his chest and stepped over the captured rebel, giving the captive a stern warning look before he moved to the broken wall to see, drawn with morbid curiosity.

It was utter carnage, the stink of blood and ichor in the air, and the acrid stench of ozone mixed in with it; And it was difficult not to make a face, though his expression was one more of shock as his gaze fell on Captain Ullan's headless body slumped in the dirt. Something about the sight made his blood run cold, especially with the way that Ray had explained to him how the Commissariat functioned among the guard. And the fact that Yorke had turned on Commissar Holt and Brinton further worried Vayne- He's going to say something he's going to regret- The thought flashed through his mind.

But sudden fear of the authority there glued Vayne to the ground, standing in the archway- He was acutely terrified then of bringing up the documents to Yorke, let alone Holt; Prior to what was happening before his eyes, the Senior Commissar had seemed reasonable in an office setting. His face drained of all blood, leaving a pale visage, what if exposing the documents points the pistol at me for signing off on the Tauroxes, plus their accompanying supplies and puts me in the hot seat? The Captain had clearly been following orders, too, and in an indirect way, now Ullan's blood was on his hands. The thought made him nearly sick, anxiety welling and twisting his stomach in knots.

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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:27 pm

The Unit was too far away to hear the Bolt Round evaporating the Captain's Head, for it was busy evaporating other heads more worthy of destruction. A Guevasa'ui - Xenoist equivalent to an NCO was desperately ushering his men to safety and attempting to restore order, removed his helmet in the process for the familiarity of his squad to overcome the fear and terror. Big Mistake.

What remained of the poor sod's head was now smearing the tunics and faces of the men in front of him, ensuring the terror was at all times maximum even that far away from Imperial Positions. Staff Sergeant Frederick of the Rebel PDF, Shas'vre Vash'ya Reshus, Guevasa'saal Karl and many others: They are all Targets within the scope of the Hunter and nothing more, never too far away from the hammer of Imperial Justice to deliver their due -enacting public trials before their own men and colour them in red evidence to know it as well. Know it and remember to the very bones:

When you go against the Imperium, you don't deserve a Name; only Target Prioritisation.

Rolled to continue the Pursuit
Rolled: 3 +2(careful) =5 TOTAL
Last edited by Johannes Wyss von Krieg on Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:43 pm, edited 2 times in total.


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Postby CyGamer » Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:33 pm

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

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Postby LaxKnight » Mon Nov 12, 2018 2:12 am

The beautiful sounds of artillery and high fire rate weapons filled the air and then it was over as the Tau retreated. Thea couldn’t help but smile as the Tau turned to paste. After Krast said he would buy her a drink, she replied teasingly, “Don’t pass out before I can take you up on it.”

Thea helped Krast up and followed behind him to make sure he made it to a medic, stepping in if he stumbled and keeping her head on a swivel. She also saluted Holt when they passed him. Eventually, Hugot would catch up to them and stabbed Krast with them. Though her face was hidden by her visor and rebreather, she gave a face that amounted to “did you really just do that?”. No asking for consent, she’s not a medic, she just stabbed him with a needle. If she did that to her she would knock her right in the face.

Thea began to hear some bickering behind her. She considered seeing what was going on but then the sound of a particularly loud report of a Bolt Pistol made her look. She saw Commissar Holt holding the smoking gun and the headless body of a former Unseen Son officer fall to the ground. The Commissar’s voice shook her out of shock but she found herself more confused. She was in none of those groups he mentioned. At least until a medic came up to her and said, “Come with me, ma’am. We’ll get that arm patched up.”

Thea looked down at her arm and saw a big hole in her armor. She could see her arm through it and saw how red it was with some big blisters. At that point the pain finally hit her, causing her to wince. With that, the medic guided her to the medicae ward.

[Unless stopped, Thea is going out of the topic.]
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Postby Commissar Cat » Mon Nov 12, 2018 7:10 am

Startled, Cat snapped his head around and looked at December, his eyebrows cinching in confusion.
Any other medic, any other Krieger, and he would have believed that they were so focused or single mindedly caught up in their own work not to notice what had happened.

But this one?
The same December who had shown their loyalty by holding on to the quad gun for far longer than was safe. Who had tried to calm Yorke down.

But, she knows I'm not hurt...
Throne. She's trying to help.

"I'll come by medicae later. I promise." he nodded firmly, privately mortified someone had stepped into the blast radius of his self-destruction.

Turning his head back to give the scorned officers his full attention, Cat briefly focused his eyes past them... And spotted a familar shock of colour in the distance as Cassius stood, rooted to the spot across the courtyard.
Oh Throne, how much did he see? F-

Oh, right. Holt. Brinton.

The gluey slur of time ended, and Yorke found himself facing present reality again.

(( Cat roll Clever: 3, +3 to work out what is going on with the helpful medic. ))

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