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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 22, 2013 19:57:28 GMT -5
The worst part about going to the workout facility was knowing at some point you couldn't go on, that eventually you'd hit your limit and have to turn in. Berlioz knew it was stupid to think like that, obviously no man had limitless energy, everyone had their turning point, people even pushed past that when the time called for it, but in the end you had to stop. He rubbed the back his neck with the towel around his neck, trying to stop the sweat from collecting on the end of his hair. He sighed, the familiar ache from his routine rushing through him, but the last few days it had felt different somehow, like it was just a little bit sharper round the edges, like it was just a little bit harder to move. He walked up to the door and paused before waving his wrist in front of the scanner to let himself in, that ache. He was only 24, still in what most would call the prime of his life, yet he could feel it, deep in his bones, he felt old. Old and tired.
Looking up, he waved his wrist and the door binged, sliding open with minimal noise. Striding in he quickly moved to his bunk and sat down, throwing the towel to his side he pulled off the thin black shirt he had worn for the work out and started rummaging around for a clean grey one he usually wore when he wasn't planning on doing anything for the rest of the day. He didn't like being topless, not out of the usual body insecurity but that you could see the past written on his chest and back. Wounds and scars that constantly reminded him of all that had happened, as if he forgot anyway, most people had an annoying tendency to ask him questions they should know better than to ask. What happened? How did he get them? Why so many?... Was it really something that others would want show off? It was only then he noticed the only other living soul in the berth looking at him. Berlioz hadn't seen him before, but having only been here a few days it wasn't exactly uncommon to not know every face in his platoon. He froze like a deer in headlights, not having expected anyone to be there when he got back, having timed his workout to end around the middle of lunch so he could at least get some time to rest in quiet.
On the other hand, the fact that this other soldier was so quiet he hadn't even noticed him when he came in should mean that silence wasn't entirely lost to him.
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Aug 22, 2013 22:26:12 GMT -5
He hadn't been that hungry and had therefore decided to skip lunch, also because he liked the silence it was good for thinking and drawing although being on a ship didn't inspire much creativity. Living inside the hull of a giant bulk of metal in the endless depths of space, could be considered poetic but he felt it better not to think about it and just try to take it one day at the time. So today he had decided to relax and think about the people back home, he would need to talk to them soon after all it had been to long since he spoken to them last.
His thoughts was interrupted as someone entered the room, he looked at the guy who entered but couldn't quite recognize him, not more then him most likely being one of the new replacements who had been assigned to fill the gap after the losses at the last few missions, he still remembered the bloody crash they had experienced. He noticed the 'new guy' had noticed him and was now looking back. It seemed like he had caught him by surprise since the guy seemed to had stopped in the middle of changing his shirt, he also noticed some of the scars and thought that this guy most likely had seen quite a bit of action.
He sat up and leant against the wall feeling his bunk was a good place to sit instead of walking over to the table. He gave the guy a nod and a half-hearted smile before correcting the sleeves on his black expat jacket. "Seems like you had fun?" He asked randomly feeling like he wanted to talk to someone and who knew one of these replacements might be nice and making friends was one of the things that was good in order to make daily duty easier.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 23, 2013 6:36:56 GMT -5
The other soldier sat up somewhat, leaning against the wall looking over at him. He nodded and grinned slightly, fiddling with the sleeves on his jacket. "Seems like you had fun?" He half asked, half stated. Berlioz stared at him for a split second before his brain kicked in again, he looked down into bag again, finally finding what he was looking for and pulled the t-shirt over his head, feeling somewhat more comfortable. Assuming he was asking about the workout, he responded with, "I'm not entirely sure I'd call it fun. Necessary, yes, needed, yes, but I wouldn't call it fun. What about you? Do you have fun working out?"
He kept a measured tone in his voice, from the oh so little he'd seen of this other trooper, he didn't seem like the antagonistic type, he knew how they operated and asking how your workout was with a nervous smile wasn't in their repertoire. That said he question seemed somewhat self answering now having a better look at the solider, he didn't have the common medium to heavy muscle build that a lot of soldiers and troopers had, it clearly wasn't enough to stand through his clothes, that said it didn't on Berlioz either so it was really an unknown at this point. Now that he was sitting up, he was able to steal a glance at the name on the breast of his jacket, Vinigan.
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Aug 23, 2013 13:28:34 GMT -5
He just looked at the guy as he finally seemed to react again and got his shirt on, Vinigan had noticed the scars but decided not to mention them as the first thing in a conversation with a new guy, although he guessed it was most likely battle scars after all he seemed like one who had been serving for long, most likely full on experience. As Lamond spoke answered the question with it being necessary but not fun and then came the question if he had fun doing it he simply replied by shrugging "It's alright I guess? Not my main interest.." he replied not putting much effort into the reply.
He looked a bit around the empty room before making another obvious statement "I'll assume you are new in the unit? So therefore as the unofficial welcoming committee I bid you welcome.. And sorry for not having done it before but I hope you'll enjoy our.. Fine.. Well here.." he spoke with a polite voice and continued with a slight smile having trouble finding words for the berth after all they were even more terrible then the ones in the barracks which he hadn't expected was possible.
He wasn't sure why he took the time to welcome some people maybe this was just another replacement who'd be hurt in the next encounter, although he didn't expect it, after all experience was what kept you alive.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 24, 2013 13:29:51 GMT -5
Well that confirms it, he thought to himself as Vinigan answered. He could understand though, the few people he'd spoken to in the army about working out saw it as a chore, they did it to keep them at the level where they wouldn't be kicked out and where they were still effective in combat. Berlioz didn't exactly see the point of maintaining a level where you were only just effective. If you were going to be fighting for your life and those around you, wouldn't being the absolute top of your performance make the most sense?
He nodded, not really knowing what to say after that, just as he looked down, Vinigan asked him about being new, something about a welcoming committee? He looked back up and responded, "Yeah, I was transferred here from the UCS Mombasa, 42nd Airborne Rifle Division, after an assessment said something about my being asked to consider moving to the SDC. I didn't really have any reason to stay in the regular army so I accepted." He broke eye contact for a second, people usually preferred it when he didn't make too much eye contact. "No worries, aside from Lt. Hobbar and Staff Sergeant Silva I haven't really spoken to anyone else. Not that I mind, but I appreciate the effort."
He looked around at the bunks and walls, "It's not much, but in all honesty, it's a step up from a lot of the places I've had to sleep." Moving his gaze back to Vinigan he asked, "Have you been stationed on the Dauntless for long?"
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Aug 25, 2013 12:22:35 GMT -5
Vinigan seemed interested as Lamond started to tell his story, it was always interesting to learn more information about his fellow troopers and that this guy openly talked about what he had done previously it was interesting to finally talk to someone with more experience although having gone so far as to be asked to join the SDC he was a bit surprised this person wasn't an NCO yet, at least he didn't think he was "You must have been serving for awhile for being picked for the SDC?" he asked curiously. At the mention of it being alright he hadn't welcomed him earlier he smiled a bit although it was a bit weird he was only the third person that he had talked too.
As Lamond replied to this being a step up he thought to himself that it was most likely better then in the field but not the usual barracks. Then came a question if he had been stationed on Dauntless for long, he was silent for a moment looking thoughtful before answering "Not sure week wise but ever since we were attacked on Stataca... " He gave a light sigh and looked away for a moment at the thought of one of their Drill sergeants being killed on their home front.
He looked back at Lamond "in any case I seem to have forgotten my manners" he offered a slight smile "Name's Lucien Vinigan I'm the platoons Radio operator joined up with the SDC and still serving... The last might be obvious. " he told with a bit of pride in his voice he was glad to serve in the SDC despite lacking the previous combat experience a lot of the other members had.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 25, 2013 13:34:51 GMT -5
He really should have seen it coming, a question regarding his length of service wouldn't seem out of place to literally anybody else, but it was always something that bothered him. Pretty much every single servicemen that he had heard speaking about their time in the armed forces would usually say they had a year or so, with the occasional 2 or even 3 years of service. This was mainly due to the fact he'd been moved from division to division, so he was never around anyone long enough to see any people get much further than that, he was the odd one out. He looked down at the floor, not particularly wanting to look Vinigan in the eye as he said, "Too long, in my opinion. Around 6 and a half years, give or take a week. I'm not sure if it was my service time they picked me out for, or some other reason, but I'm here so that's something I guess."
Then came the response to his question about how long he'd been in the SDC. Attacked on Stataca? Stataca... Stata- That's the planet that the SDC are based from, that attack was coming up to being a year ago, so he must have at least around 10 months of service, he thought. Berlioz saw him turn away as he said it, the usual involuntary motion when you aren't talking about something pleasant. He didn't know the details but Vinigan's face was enough to show that Stataca was not a popular topic for discussion.
Vinigan looked back at him smiling somewhat again, actually introducing himself this time. Radio Operator, keeping you alive will be important then, Berlioz idly thought to himself. Might as well make a little bit of effort, I can't see my stay here being too short and I'm hoping that the SDC are better at staying alive than regular soldiers. He stood up and strode over to Vinigan's bunk, stretching out his hand towards him, the action feeling strange. He almost stated rank out of habit, but realised that Vinigan hadn't, "Berlioz Lamond, Riflemen"
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Aug 25, 2013 21:20:25 GMT -5
He noticed that Lamond maybe didn't like speaking about his service time at least he seemed thoughtful in a specific way. As he said he'd been serving for more then six years, he would almost be the most senior soldier in the unit he didn't even know if the squad sergeant had that long a service record 'he got to be a corporal' he thought to himself.
As Lamond got up Vinigan looked at him as he walked around the room and over in front of him and stretched out his hand before introducing himself. He looked at Lamond for a moment before stretching his own hand and shaking Lamond's giving him a short nod "Nice to meet you Berlioz.. Besides being a rifleman you are what? Lance Corporal? Corporal? Can't imagine one with six years of service being anything but.." he asked curiously.
He turned off the screen to his drawing pad now that Lamond had come closer before looking back at Lamond "So why aren't you at lunch? I could imagine one would be hungry after having trained hard?" he asked before continuing "I know after I been running around with my radio for an entire day I love to have some food and a smoke..." at the mention of a smoke he took a cigarette pack out of one of his chest pockets and took a cigarette but didn't light it, he felt like it was almost a habit.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 26, 2013 19:26:49 GMT -5
He smiled a little at Vinigan's next question. It was perfectly reasonable to assume that with his service time that he'd at least be a corporal or even close to Sergeant. Sad reality was that he'd never been considered for the role, he never took the opportunities to lead others usually because Berlioz was too busy doing his actual job and trying to keep everyone else alive. No time to be messing around showing off how good you are at telling people what to do. He said back in the same measured tone as before, "Actually I'm a PFC, same as you if that's correct." He nodded towards the now visible rank patch on his shoulder. "I don't know when or even if I'll ever be promoted but that's not really why I'm still here. I'm not looking for pride or glory" Obviously he couldn't tell him the actual reason for his staying so long in service, not to mention the fact he sure as hell wasn't going to say anything about the fact that he'd been in constant deployment for over four of those six and a half years and hadn't taken a day's leave in that time frame. He could see people easily getting the wrong impression. Who would rationally do that? A wannabe hero? A Psychopath? He wasn't any of those, but he didn't even really know why he was still here at this point. Was it just to fight and die? Was that really all that was left on his table? Just to follow orders until someone either said stop or you got a bullet in your gut? He internally shock his head, thoughts like that shouldn't be cropping up.
Vinigan then asked about not being at lunch, considering the time it would make sense for Berlioz to ask him exactly the same question, but he let that slip by and responded, "I was at the gym, I don't like to work out on a meal, doesn't do your body any good" He looked at Vinigan as he pulled out the cigarette. He personally stayed as far away from anything like that, both for physical and mental reasons. Obviously substances like tobacco and alcohol were detrimental to performance, reduced lung capacity, reduced reflex time, liver damage, body fat increase, but with all that came the crutch like support he knew they offered. The ability to make you temporarily 'forget your troubles and woes' he'd heard one soldier previously refer to it as. He couldn't afford himself the slightest possibility of slipping up and becoming dependent on something like that just to get through the day. Instead he replied in a roundabout way, "If I've been training then I usually like to either sleep, or just train more. Eat if I have to, report to whoever I have to and then just get back to my routine."
He really wished it didn't sound as pathetic as that.
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Aug 27, 2013 17:44:46 GMT -5
He was a bit surprised as Lamond told he was the same rank, he assumed that Lamond must have done something wrong or insulted the wrong people, most got promoted to just because of seniority. "I'm sure you'll get promoted one day, wouldn't want to stay PFC for your entire life" he said with a reassuring smile he hadn't seen him and didn't even know his skills but he knew he'd hate to stay PFC forever of course he hadn't been in the military for that long either so most likely he wouldn't even be considered for a promotion.
There was a bit of silence before the question was answered and he just told he had been in the gym, it made sense not to train on a full stomach. Then Lamond mentioned that he liked to either train more or just sleep. Vinigan was beginning to think that Lamond was just another boring soldier but maybe it was because he was just new and didn't want to come of wrong to begin with 'that will have to be changed!' Vinigan thought to himself.
He waited a bit thinking "Sounds boring... Sure you also tend to do something for fun? and you better not say training or report to whoever or routine.. You aren't in the army anymore you are in the SDC!" he said before continuing "Tell me... Where are you from? Do you have some stories you like to tell from your service? I'm sure you have lots of interesting things to tell.. Most of my stories are from basic training but I know you have some" He had decided just to ask a bunch of questions in order to get Lamond to open up a bit more.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 27, 2013 19:46:29 GMT -5
Vinigan spoke like getting a promotion was almost a guarantee and Berlioz really wished that was the case. He'd really not been paying much attention to whether or not he was being eyed up for the next rank. Perhaps there was some unspoken code about only promoting those that had their head up and their mouth open, not someone like him that kept their head hanging low and their gun by their side, unquestioning and obedient. Not exactly qualities that were looked for in NCOs. He looked at Vinigan's slight smile and said, "I'm not entirely sure about the one day part, you might be right and I could live to see Lance Corporal or maybe even higher, but I could die in the first seconds of the next mission, then I really would have been a PFC for most of my career and it wouldn't make a difference to the brass that threw us in there" He paused, probably shouldn't have said that, he thought to himself, no need to drag the atmosphere down too far.
Then he was asked something that caught him off guard. Do I have stories I like to tell? He sat stunned for a moment, the previous comment about being boring being completely over shadowed by this. Nobody had ever asked him that before, not that he'd ever really given anyone a chance in the last 4 or so years. He looked down, that feeling of age coming back, he usually did a good job of holding it together, usually could keep himself upright through the day, not let the thoughts come creeping in like come sick weed. The memories. Why would anybody want to know?
He knew Vinigan hadn't been exposed to the same level and amount of violence he had but even he had seen his face drop somewhat when he spoke about the attack on Stataca, he should have some ounce of understanding. He realised he hadn't responded, Vinigan still looking at him for an answer, those eyes staring at him. "Uhh, I-" He stammered, Say something, anything, just don't crack now you've been doing so damn well! He breathed in deeply, holding it in before letting it out, trying to calm down.
"Interesting... Is probably the wrong word to use." He said quietly, he didn't want Vinigan to think he was angry with him. "I've got plenty of... stories, but none of them are probably what you want to hear." Who would want to hear about dragging someone's half dead body two miles to a checkpoint. He needed this to stop, he cursed Vinigan for somehow throwing off months worth of good luck, how could one innocent question do this? Who wants to hear about you having to shoot someone's child because they picked up a weapon and fired at your friends? He needed to speak again or risk looking like an asshole, or worse, crazy. He breathed out again, putting on a small, fake, smile to try and not look like he was going mad. "I don't think they'd be particularly interesting, you spend a long time doing nothing really." Vinigan was going to see right through that lie, any decent human would be able to tell. But what could he do?
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Post by Lucien Vinigan on Sept 23, 2013 18:48:59 GMT -5
He looked at Lamond as he spoke about him not being sure about getting a promotion and mentioning that if he did in the next mission then he'd have been a PFC his whole life, Vinigan simply shook his head at him "You my friend are silly, Of course you wont get killed in the next battle, large chance of survival and all besides if we do our job all of us will be coming back besides it most likely wont be that tough a run remember we are the drop corps the fighting elite! Hooah" he said with a smile as he got up from sitting on the bed walking around Lamond before leaning against the table in the centre of the room.
He focused on lamond for what seemed like a long while, he hadn't expected to make Lamond react like that when asking about something as simple as stories from his time serving. He looked at Lamond a bit worried not being entirely sure how to react, though he hoped that they hadn't gotten a broken old soldier into their unit as a replacement of the ones they had lost wouldn't be effective for combat or morale after all they were supposed to be elite.
As Lamond finally spoke some words that seemed almost humble in its sound almost forced as he explained he didn't have any stories that would be particularly interesting and giving a fake smile that he had no trouble seeing through after all it would be something he'd do himself in some situations "Are you alright mate?" he asked politely, being a bit worried about Lamond "We wouldn't want to have to turn you over to them damn shrink guys now would we?" he said with a light tone in an attempt to sound a bit funny.
He took a deep breath before finally lighting a cigarette, he inhaled the smoke waiting a bit before exhaling it giving a short thinking break "Sorry forgot to offer.. Want one?" he asked politely preparing to pull out the cigarette pack not knowing if his new friend smoke. "And what you say? Should we go get some chow?" he asked not feeling very hungry himself but in an attempt to figure out something to do.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Sept 23, 2013 19:23:49 GMT -5
It was clear from Vinigan's words that maybe he was still thinking in the mindset of someone that was considered expendable. Just like he said, he was now in the elite, the best that the UCHD had to offer. So why did he still feel like this? Like he was still some grunt, on the front lines waiting to do his duty and die for the betterment of humanity. He mentally shook himself, spending some time here would hopefully change that mentality. Perhaps being around people that actually knew how to properly take care of themselves would make him feel less like his job was keeping people alive.
However after seeing Vinigan's reaction to his sudden slip up, the obvious concern in his face flashed warning bells in Berlioz's head. Going to the shrinks is the last thing I need right now, he thought pulling himself together, rebuilding the facade he had been keeping up before. "Thanks for the concern but I'm really fine. It's just strange thinking back on everything, you know?" He smiled genuinely this time, or at least he really hoped it looked that way.
Vinigan actually lit the cigarette now, the same thoughts of how it really wasn't doing him any good were a welcome relief from the thoughts on the past that had previously been crashing around. He jumped slightly, lost in thought again when Vinigan was suddenly holding a cigarette out to him, asking if he wanted one. Berlioz shook his head slightly, "Thanks for the offer but I don't smoke" the offer for food on the other hand was considerably more enticing. He hadn't eaten since a rushed breakfast before his transfer so lunch was definitely on the cards now. "Actually I will join you, I do however hope the meals here are better than the ones I got on the last ship I was stationed on." He'd go eat and then pay a visit to the head psychiatric officer on-board, he had a prescription that he needed to collect on before lights out.
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