Crows In Motion

[Deleted]

Every Crow had been summoned to the Nest, many wondering what would happen to their organization. The world was in chaos and a state of war, one of their leaders was dead and the other two had been incapacitated for some time now. They wondered how long they could stem the tide without leadership but more so, would their organization cease to be. The question on everyone’s tongue was what this meeting was truly about, none knew due to the difficulty of passing information along, making it a small miracle everyone could be collected for this meeting. Still they waited in assembly.

Back stage, Kiyoshi was slumped, sitting in a chair due to his condition. He was nowhere near fully healed but still knew that time was of the essence for this small gang to start to move and ensure its survival. He’d only been able to get partially dressed due to his wounds, a pair of pants and a jacket thrown over his shoulders. The rest of him was covered in bandages from the various wounds he’d suffered during the fall of 259. Taking several breaths to focus his strength, Kiyoshi extended his arm to the Militia woman that had been tending to him since the incident for assistance to get up. It was time to address the gathered crowd. With a heavy groan, the Crows leader staggered to his feet and headed out to stage before the gathering, same one where he’d introduced the world to the Crows. The crowd went silent at the sight of their leader once again on the stage.

“Brothers and sisters, our home is under attack… and several of us have already fallen in this war.”

He paused as everyone knew to what he was referring.

“I will NOT stand idly by and allow this to happen. I WILL fight and protect my home and rain vengeance upon those who’ve done it harm. Those who have taken our friends from us will pay, I assure you!”

Another pause as Kiyoshi had set forth his promise to make Barker and his ilk pay for what they had done, however he was far from done. No doubt he would need fighters but he would not force anyone to do anything, it wasn’t in his nature and it was against the very principles the Crows were founded upon.

“Now the choice is yours. I will not force anyone to fight who does not want to. If you feel as I do I invite you to stand with me and fight this madman. If not, then you may withdraw from our group. Do not feel as though you must stay up of loyalty, the Crows were created on the ideal of living life on your own terms in freedom. The greatest way for each and every one of you to honor the Crows is to look deep within your own hearts and follow the path you see within it. Those of you who wish to stay and fight, I thank you. Those of you who wish to depart, I have but one request… that you live your lives to the fullest in memory of those who’ve passed and will pass in this war. That is all I have ever truly asked.”

He gave them all a moment to decide, those that would stay would remain and those wishing to depart would do so. After that was settled, he would look at the remainder.

“Now we must set about the task before us. First is the equipment we need; I want all of you to scour our territory for any abandoned cars, working or not, boats, and motorcycles you can find. Then Department and Sporting goods stores, we need hockey, football and baseball catcher pads, baseball bats, hockey sticks, bows, arrows, knives from the hunting department, charcoal and wood, any tools from a hardware store, fishing gear, food and liquids, and any scrap metal you find especially long poles. Gather this and bring it back here.”

He’d have all items written on a large list for reference. But what was it all for? Food and liquids could be stored for sustenance as the Nest had doubled as a club. The dance floor could now double as training grounds with the personal quarters upstairs, the back area would switch from clubhouse to war room with the command group rooming there. The charcoal and wood would be used in the next warehouse over, where rubble would be used to make forges for make armor and weapons. It would take trial and error, perhaps poorly made but a ready source for now. Hockey pads (goalie especially) and footballs pads would be layered with the metal from the busted cars for extra protection, the heaviest and sturdiest going on the Spearmen, the middle going on the average unit. The leather and cushions from seats would be refashioned into light armor to protect the fast group while enabling mobility aka the Scouts. Any bows and arrows would be given to Scouts for range along with hunting knives. The long metal poles would be melded into sharp point for the spears. The average group, being the largest most likely, would be split by weapon. Half would receive bats and the metal of the doors of a car, four doors melded together made a decent shield for their purposes, thus creating a Shield division. While the other half would have hockey sticks with metal shaped to fit the blade of the stick and sharpened, though taped on to prevent burning the stick itself. The tools for maintenance on all things, in this time they had to become self-sufficient, hence fishing gear for fishing.

“After that we begin preparation, it units specialized to skills. I want the strongest in one group, the fastest in another, and the average in another. Training will begin tomorrow.”

With that Kiyoshi looked to Dora for help to his chair again, unsure if Unfettered had returned yet or not and quite sure she wasn’t pleased with what she was being asked to do. In time, however Unfettered should return and Tai, with his weapon and they could truly start to move.

((OOC Note: Moderator can decide the success of asset acquisition and how many leave. Though it would stand to reason those who remain get a morale boost but again, mod choice. I would like results posted in the thread, please.

Note 2: Mikey, you can start up the training portion.))

[Zack Asiv]

((Admin Note: Taking a trick out of Mikey's book, I rolled for every individual Crow NPC. For the following result.))


Each Crow to a moment to look back on things,the events leading to this point,t he things they had already been through and the things undoubtedly to come from this.

Looking around though no one seemed to be making a move to leave. At this realization a smile ould break out through the entire room as the looked to Kiyoshi and his next words.


“Now we must set about the task before us. First is the equipment we need; I want all of you to scour our territory for any abandoned cars, working or not, boats, and motorcycles you can find. Then Department and Sporting goods stores, we need hockey, football and baseball catcher pads, baseball bats, hockey sticks, bows, arrows, knives from the hunting department, charcoal and wood, any tools from a hardware store, fishing gear, food and liquids, and any scrap metal you find especially long poles. Gather this and bring it back here.”


The crows seem to scatter on their mission easily acquiring boats, alot of them fishing boats to begin with. Plenty of fishing equipment to grab. They find some abandoned cars that looked like they could be fixed up, only a few motorcycles. Luckily enough sporting goods where easy to come by for pads, but the majority of the weapons had been stolen already.

((Admin Note:

-All Crows successfully stay gaining a moral boost of +1 to all stats in the next battle.

-They find 10 fishing boats with fishing supplies, food source is sustainable.

-They find 4 cars all broken down, will need to work on them to get them up and running.

-They find 5 motorcycles, all useable.

-They find an assortment of pads and protection +1 to Con for all outfitted NPC's.

-They find few weapons, but enough for everyone to have a weapon of some kind.

-They sack a couple of local stores for food and beverages.

-They find enough scrap metal and tools and the like to begin work on the broken down cars if the decision is made. (Takes three days to fix)

-They find enough materials to make a forge. (Takes five days to make)

-The local population of civilians is concerned and scared of the Crows. (Gain more options and Side quests.)

[Deleted]

With the success, Kiyoshi made it a point to see their newly found resources well protected and organized.

The boats would be tied to a nearby dock, which would have guards 24/7 in 4 hour shifts. The cars and motorcycles would be stored, with the tools, in the forge warehouse, which would be referred to as the Storehouse from now on. They would begin work on the cars to repair them immediately, along with building the forge. This building would also hold the gathered weapons and armor and have the same guard shifts as the dock.

He has the members inventory the acquired weapons and their various types to so what they have to be divvied up amongst the members. How many Spears could they make? Bladed Hockey sticks? Bats? Shields? Bows? Hunting Knives?

All the food and beverages acquired would be stored within the bar area of the Crows Nest.

Though this gave raise to new issues and plans. First was power, it was unlikely the power grid was still function properly or fully. They would have to locate some generators to maintain a power source. Another was how medical situation. The last was the idea for a smoker to preserve meat. However Kiyoshi would wait until everything was ready before another raiding session would be commissioned.

((OoC: Response post, going to us this as a "what's up with the Crows"/Stronghold advancement thread. I would like number of each weapon type to properly divvy up NPCs into troop units and date when everything from first session is built/repaired.))

[Zack Asiv]

5 hockey sticks

5 baseball bats

3 prybars

As of yesterday all the cars would be repaired.

One more day until Forge is complete. (Dec 22, 2011 10:00am CST)

13 Light padding sets

8 thick hockey pads

Once the forge is finished can make up to 5 spears.

[Deleted]

As soon as the Forge is finished, the spears are commissioned to be made. 3 sets of each armor type are stored for later use. The following specialized divisions are created, while remaining troops remain in base category:

• Heavy Infantry : 5
  
  • Weapon: Forged Spears
    
  • Armor: Thick Hockey Pads
  
  
• Melee : 5
  
  • Weapon: Hockey Sticks
    
  • Armor: Light Padding Sets
  
  
• Shield : 5
  
  • Weapon: Baseball Bats
    
  • Armor: Light Padding Sets
  
  
• Scouts : 3
  
  • Weapon: Prybars
    
  • Armor: Normal Clothing
  
  
  
• Base : 39 (pre-new number calculations)
  

["Unfettered"]

OOC: Recall, folks, this took place back in December. 5-6 month overdue post here. >>;

The Long Path

* * * * * * After The Speech * * * * * *

"Did you fuckin’ hear that, boss? Fuckin’ over," crackled the voice over the walkie-talkie. In a response, a hand snaked out from under the bed covers, its long calloused fingers tightening around the collapsible antenna, as if pondering whether or not to slam it down. Instead, the hand slipped down its length smoothly. Abruptly, "Unfettered" shook and stretched his body until he emerged from the covers, the blanket retreating down to just over his lower stomach, his thighs, and everything in between.

The German looked half mummy. His chest had been wrapped around with several dozen feet worth of one long strand of white bandages, the bandages doing their part to hold all the wads of cotton and all the stingy antiseptic down on "Unfettered's" still gaping bullet wounds. He half-yawned his eye awake, bringing his left hand to scratch at the itch on his cheek. Ever since he had been ported over to the Crow's Nest by Vincent, he had spent at least twelve hours a day sleeping, a total of an hour eating, another being rather regrettably aided with his relieving by an openly disgusted Dora, and the rest of the time catching up. And heavens, when no one else was around he would grumble at just how much there was to catch up on.

If not for his constant visitors, "Unfettered" would have preferred to have been kept in the public infirmary, along with his fellow Crows and Militia. As it stood, the confines of his room did the job just as adequately in terms of housing his wounded, ragged body, thanks to the personal maintenance "Nurse Dora" seemed to be giving him (along with several dozen stitched scalpel wounds to back it). The spartan layout was to "Unfettered's" preference: A full-sized mattress on top of its box-spring without the frills of a bed frame, tucked neatly in the corner. At the foot of his bed was his recovered oak desk, which had miraculously survived with only one of the six drawers missing, and even that drawer and its contents had been recovered, though it was buried under much debris and otherwise shattered, its remains left on top of flat of his desk. There was a dresser somewhat filled with “Unfettered’s” mostly invariable repertoire, with a black ironing board propped up against its side with a steam-shooting Maytag ironer at its feet to keep it from sliding flat to the wooden floor. In an opposing corner was the door to his personal bathroom and in the last corner was the door to one of the main square halls.

Seven seconds of dead air passed before “Unfettered” brought the walkie-talkie next to his head, his eye closing tiredly as he scratched lightly at his fresh black eye-patch, in the bad habit of his privacy. He hadn’t had his daily bath yet and felt grungy.

”Ja, Ich did, over.”

Dora, Tai, and “Gren” were the German’s powerful eyes, ears, arms, and legs in lieu of the state of his incapacitated recovery. They had passed on his orders for his group’s (Militia’s) structural recovery. The insurance of Olesya’s safety, confirmation of Delilah and everyone’s little boy Oliver’s safe travel to the Nest, and recovery of other students while they could, while their hosting group (Crows) were allowed to rest. Word of Maddie, Calamity, Eris, Miria, Chocorem, Mr. Travers, Mr. Takehiko, Mr. Chan, Mr. Whitewood, Miss Henderson. He had to suffer with a taste of rumors of a huge battle that occurred North-East of the Crow’s Nest, with a upstart student resistance, in a scouting report by Tai, where a massive host of Barker’s forces greeted them, scattering the students. He suffered rumors of a massive death that he would have to confirm for himself in that aforementioned battle. He… did not think of Miss Santos. He prayed that Jyo, Stuart, and the others were alright, though he had no hope of seeing many of his former compatriots again from all the constant transferring… even Mitsuki Park. There would have to be a hunt for Mr. Asiv and John Ong, provided both had survived. With “Green,” he began compiling a list of confirmed dead of the records that they had and began filing those away in his free time.

He couldn’t help but find most of this… funny. Not so long ago, almost a year, he had been working arduously to compile this data, to work the politics, to hunt on this paranoia of a larger plot at hand… and here he was, riddled with bullet holes. Not allowed to write anything down, much less sit up by Dora’s tyrannical care, the German was stuck to covey all of his thoughts verbally with his compatriots, though his ability to speak was still not quite up to par with his lung still recovering. Still recovering…

…For a moment, “Unfettered” reached up to his chest, over the bandage, and thought of that rainy day in the tunnels, where Vin---

”…Tai, over.”

”The fuck’s up? Fuckin’ over.”

”…Describe to me vat du saw. Over.”

”…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

OOC: Try reading the following run-on in one breath.
Tai had been running. Everywhere. Picking up a fucking sword for his gung-ho-as-fuck commander, finding his original boss set up like a drowned sewer rat on some fucking amazingly rainy day brought in at the Nest’s doorstep, going in and out of “Unfettered’s” room for massively fucking boring sets of instruction, having one of the Zero’s he had actually fucking liked die on him, and when he had any spare time, ANY spare time at all, he was running through the fucking ruins of a blasted-to-fuck city that he KIND OF LIKED HAVING EXIST BEFORE ALL THE FUCKING MISSILES RAINED DOWN LIKE A BUNCH OF FUCKING ASSTARD AND SHAT THEMSELVES LIKE A BROTHEL OF GOAT-BEARDED HOOKERS WITH NO GODDAMN BLADDER CONTROL OVER THE ENTIRE FUCKING POPULACE.

It was RIDICULOUSLY fucking nice to sit down and listen to their fuckin’ boss’ boss go up there, all injured and shit, and speak all emotionally and fuckin’ shit like that. Dora was there, being her helpful bitchy self, glowering scalpel eyes at Kiyoshi’s Jappo-ass. Not like Tai was fuckin’ jealous or any-fuckin-thing. He fuckin’ ROOMED with that bitch to save space when she wasn’t busy bitching out Kiyoshi for volunteering to be his bitch, bitching over Marina and how gone and shit she was, with only a few words of “she’s fuckin’ recovering over at Vespyr’s, we’ll find out her status through ‘Teal’,” BITCHING at their bitch-ass-boss, Mr. Tall, Pale and Bitch-Assed-Bitch, BITCHING at their resident FAGGOT when he wasn’t acting like his “Mr. Srs-Fuckin’-Business” self and acting like his FAGGOT self. That left all of her remaining bitching to be aimed at Tai, AND IF HE HAD TO BE FUCKIN’ STABBED BY A SCALPEL ONE MORE FUCKIN’ TIME---

---The man looked around, as Kiyoshi volunteered to let go of people. Fuck “Unfettered,” Fuck Kiyoshi, as if they could AFFORD to let people go. But here, Tai found himself rather surprised at the fact that no one left. Even Dora, who was standing with her arms crossed like her bitchy-ass self, raised a rare brow in what may have been her bitch-ass possibly being impressed. Tai’s jaw dropped. Fuck everything else, the fucking Armageddon was happening, DORA WAS (kind of fuckin’) IMPRESSED.

Tai found himself, in his own surprise, standing with his own arms crossed, smiling like a damned fuckin’ fool. It felt like tears were welling up in his sharp-ass eyes. The realization made him want to gag himself in disgust, but with the FAGGOT standing in the corner, going all ditzy-mode impressed, he didn’t want to risk “Green” discovering some newfound, disgusting fetish for watching people suffer in their own fuckin’ shit. Fuckin’…

…With the speech up and done with and Kiyoshi’s orders set out, Tai sat back, volunteering to put away the chairs and clean up the place himself, listening to “Unfettered’s” request.

”…

“…Jesus fuckin’ Christ, well…”

* * * * * * After Kiyoshi’s Orders Were Tended To * * * * * *

Tai walked out from another long-ass session with “Unfettered.” But to anyone who was actually paying attention to his Militia-ass, he actually kind of looked… fuckin’ nervous. He would walk through the halls, looking all troubled and shit, striding right on out to the…

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

”Fuckin’… Mr… Wood?”

”M-Miss.”

”Fuckin’… What…”

”M-Miss H-Houston.”

”GOOD FUCKING LORD, YOU’RE A CRUSTY TRANSVESTITE.”

”W-WAIT, C-COME BACK! I-I’M SO LONELY.”

”GET YOUR FUCKIN’ SAGGY TITS OUT OF MY FACE.”

”IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE FELT LIKE THIS”

”HOLYSHIT, I THOUGHT THEY CUT THAT SHIT OFF WHEN IT WAS DONE.”

”LOVE ME, BOY, THERE’S NO ESCAPE FROM HERE.”

”WHY THE FUCK IS YOUR HOUSE A FUCKIN’ DUNGEON---

---JESUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO---”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

…After Mr. Houston mysteriously died of a heart attack which may or may not have been caused by choking on the six-foot long black dildo he had forced Tai to shove down both their throats during Tai’s visit, Tai crossed off the old WWII veteran’s name off the list and began to look at the next one. He found himself on the porch of Mr. Nathan, a Vientnam vet.

After nearly having his head blown off from apparently looking sketchy as fuck, given all his fatigue-based clothing that gave the vet a PTSD flashback to his days in the Cong, Tai sat down, shirtless, asking the man dozens of question, interviewing the Vet’s experience. The training, the yelling, the harsh conditions they had to go under… And Tai, with a clipboard full of lined paper and a pen at hand, began noting down all that he could in regards to training.

The next three days would consist of looking through the yellow pages for numbers of other potential veterans, informing them of the cause that he came from, and interviewing all of them with a polite quietness that would seem unnatural to him as he tried to drink in everything that he could.

After all, “Unfettered” had dictated that Tai was going to become Crow’s primary Drill Sergent.

On the fourth day, Tai would begin work with other Militia veterans on obstacle courses from things they could salvage from abandoned buildings nearby that had been partially destroyed, testing out the obstacles themselves for insurance of safety. While technically hushed up, the obstacle course was set up diagonally adjacent to the Crow’s Nest, on the abandoned parking lot near the beach as well as on the uphill where grass grew. The Crows and Militia who were allowed to rest were mostly kept at the Nest, observed by “Green” to go swimming in the ocean, though most of it was play. They were told up front that this would be the last days of their vacation before their training began. Most would probably play, though worry and anxiety would probably enter the minds of those who didn’t feel prepared for whatever rigorous training their apparent “Drill Sergent” had in store for them. Some may have added on some extra exercises.

A week after Kiyoshi’s grand speech, the entire nest would be woken up in their bunkbeds to the sound of trumpets.

”GOOD MORNING, FUCKERS. RISE AND FUCKIN’ SHINE.”

”LET THE HAZING BEGIN!”

A pressurized hose. A pressurized hose and Tai, barking inches away from his troops faces, with a threatening lead pipe in his hands, roused the entirety of the Nest, along with a few selected Militia. Other Militia members who were not part of the project would jump to attention. Those still in the midst of waking up would often wake up to full, hearing the pained screams as entire rooms would be shot and flooded with a pressurized hose. Those who acted on instinctual rebelliousness were met with a skilled blow to the gut by the old Militia member. Only the Zero’s were spared Tai’s near rage. Everyone would be handed a pair of black short shorts and a white t-shirt, with their last name scrawled onto it rather ominously in clear, bold black font.

They would marched on out to the Mess Hall-turned Auditorium (Fuckin’ again), with Tai, Dora, “Green,” Roger, and a few others standing at attention, next to Tai. Kiyoshi, if he so chose, would be welcome to observe, but would be requested kindly to just watch.

”GOOD FUCKIN’ MORNING, LADIES. WELCOME TO FUCKIN’ CAMP CANDY-ASS. YOU WILL BE SPENDING YOUR FUCKIN’ TIME TRAINING HERE, AT THE CROW’S NEST WITH ME, DRILL SERGENT TAI.

“YOU WILL FUCKIN’ ADDRESS ME AS DRILL SERGENT, DRILL SERGENT T, OR DRILL SERGENT TAI, OR SIR.

“ANYTHING ELSE WILL LEAD TO FUCKIN’ DISCIPLINING.

“THOSE WHO COULD NOT GET THEIR FUCKIN’ ASSES UP AND WERE PUNISHED BY DOUSING WILL BE FORCED TO CLEAN UP TO CLEAN UP THEIR FUCKIN’ ROOMS.

“HERE, THE ZERO’S ARE GODS AND I AM YOUR FUCKIN’ BIBLE AND YOU SHALL DO EXACTLY AS I INSTRUCT OR YOU WILL BE BOOTED OUT OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT.

“FOR THE NEXT FOUR FUCKIN’ WEEKS THERE WILL BE NO SLOUCHING, NO SMOKING, NO DRINKING, NO SNACKING, NO BREAKS OR SLEEPING WITHOUT PERMISSION. YOU WILL BE TRAINED, YOU WILL BE EXHAUSTED.

“YOU ARE HERE, BECAUSE YOU FUCKIN’ BELIEVE YOU CAN MAKE A FUCKIN’ DIFFERENCE. BECAUSE YOU ‘WANNA KILL BARKER’ AND BE ALL GOODY AND RIGHTEOUS. RIGHT NOW, RIGHT FUCKIN’ HERE, I AM TELLING YOU THAT YOU CANNOT BECAUSE YOU ARE A BUNCH OF GREEN-THUMBED ASSHATS. ”

Laughter.

”OH, I’M SORRY, ASSHAT, DID I MAKE A FUNNY? COME UP HERE.

Silence.

”FROM HERE ON YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED POSITIONS AND YOU WILL BE REFERRED TO AS YOUR POSITION. IF YOU ARE ASSIGNED AS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY,’ YOUR NEW NAME IS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY #’ OR YOUR LAST NAME.”

…This would continue on, as Tai would begin spewing on them every single militaristic issue that he could. Assigned squad leaders, assigned group leaders, handing out ranks based on investigations of previously recorded achievements. From his little made handbook, Tai watched as everyone, standing rather vulnerably in their ugly P.E. clothes, squirmed. It would be the beginning of their training, including a forced change of behavior. When needed, reasons would be explained, but for this to be a fighting force, everyone would have to break off their individual natures to work with each other as a unit, training their behavior to more easily follow orders.

”PREPARE TO FUCKIN’ CAW.”

Training had begun.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as ranks and groups had assigned and everyone was placed in their according groups, everyone was made to stand in a formation, keeping a five foot distance from one another in a square. This would be done lazily at first, until Tai and a few other commissioned Drill Sergeants began walking by and through the rows with a measuring stick. Because most had chosen to volunteer, there would probably be many would who take to the spirit of things rather seriously, but for those that would not, the hose and a public humiliation was in order for them.

The trainees would be taught their first formation: Running in file. Everyone would be forced to run in double-file, while keeping their approximate spacing. Running alongside them were the equally (if not more so) in shape Drill Sergents that began to berate them and prod those that fell apart easily.

”HURRY UP, FATASS. FIVE FEET, FIVE FUCKIN’ FEET.”

”YOU CALL THIS A DOUBLE-FILE!? GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR, MCKENZIE.”

The entire group would be brought out from the Crow’s Nest and onto the black top, being forced at consistently high speeds while doing their utmost to keep their double-file in order… but things would fall apart as they were splintered off into single files of ten, lined up next to each other. More yelling. More berating. On the black top, the Crows and Militia were one. One person fucked up, everyone had to do push-ups. One person didn’t want to do something, everyone would be forced to do push-ups until that person matched up. When one failed, the group would be punished.

Immediately, feelings of peer pressure would begin to be encouraged amongst the Crows (as the entirety, excluding the obvious)… and made to run laps. Run laps and be rewarded with push-ups and curl-ups. When they were done with their push-ups (as many as a person could do in five minutes), they would be rewarded with more running. Perhaps this would be tiring to most, but as most of the people in the organization were tougher, they were pushed harder.

OOC: This is going off the fact that Organization NPCs have 10 in every Statistic, and since only 5 Strength is required to punch through a concrete wall… (Probably a Red Herring comparison or whatnot, but eh).

Three minute breaks in between every bit of P.T. Then, after the first hour, two minutes. Then one. Finally, it was time for lunch and everyone was marched back to the Mess Hall. Everyone except those that fell out of formation on the way back. Those who failed were greeted at the entrance of the Crow’s Nest, only to be ordered to run ten laps around the ordained blacktop track (which spanned a good mile, every two laps). As Dora would be the one to watch over these people (with a pail of food and a bottle of water next to her), she would eat, drink, and keep watch, awarding those who attempted to cheat on their laps with two more laps for every time they were caught.

By the time most got back, the thirty-minute lunch would be over. A thirty minute lunch of two sausages, a slice of bread, orange juice or chocolate milk and water. Food was not allowed to be carried out and anyone who was caught trying to sneak food out after being informed during lunch was punished with ten laps before dinner, the names marked down on all the Drill Sergeant’s clipboards.

After lunch, most would regret it, finding that most would end up throwing up their food. However, no one was spared mercy, and the running, the push-ups, the jumping jacks, the curls, would continue. Everyone would be introduced to the “obstacle course” which would, to anyone looking at it, look incredibly inspired by every single war movie. Ever. Except worse, with jumps being five feet higher and little spiky “surprises” waiting on the ground for anyone who didn’t watch their step. Those that stepped on a little metal jack would have it ripped out of them, bandaged back up, and forced to run at full strength.

Dinner would come and go and a “after-dinner” lap would occur. Through the entire fucking city that encompassed the Crow’s territory. Tai would be seen running at the front with assigned Drill Sergeants running at the sides, making sure no one tried to slow their pace. Since the group was new, there wasn’t much in the way of songs, just a lot of screaming of “MARCH!... MARCH… MARCH!...” in some quickened beat.

Only at eleven o’ clock would they all finally be marched on back into the Nest to sleep.

…For an hour.

At twelve o’ clock, Tai and the Drill Sergeants (all of whom looked like hardened wrecks themselves) would begin the process again, up until Breakfast time. More P.T. would follow, this time of swimming (again with sharpened supervisors), before the group would be allowed to sleep again. Every time there would be some new variation of exercise or some change of order, each time followed by half an hour of eating, an hour or three of sleep, and only that blessed three minute wait in between every activity.

A week of this would pass and the Crows would look like Zombies. After a month, even Tai began to look ridiculous, but his roar came strong and clear, though everyone began to wonder when his voice would break. Finally, when a defined line of group orderliness and military discipline had been somewhat drilled into the group along with the overall group physical and mental influence (not many people wanted to risk calling in sick to their resident nurse, Dora), more individualistic forms of training would occur.

Heavy Infantry Crows would be introduced to their armor and made to march in it, weighed down with extra bits of metal and other forms of muscle training. Melee Crows would be forced to sprint constantly along fields dotted with haystack dummies, forced to hit every single one without fail unless they wanted more laps on top of it. Shield Crows would be introduced to their shields and be introduced to their baseball pitching machines partners and quickly fell in love with their shields, being forced to run in formation while defending themselves, strengthening their shield arms. Scouts would run and sprint everywhere, with “Green” having a special punishment for any of the Scouts who couldn’t outrun him… Eventually, Scouts would also be forced to observe things and note them down on the fly as well, as “Green” would begin drilling them with questions of things he had observed on their runs, ensuring not only speed, but good communication and better observational skills of their scouts. Base troop Crows would be trained in everything and more invariably by a different Drill Sergeant every time, as well as getting less savory tasks of more auxiliary tasks…

Three times a day, for the second month, everyone would train to fight with their weapons and armor.

In the third month… varying squads tactics would be introduced, on top of everything else. Here, formation was everything and mess-ups resulted in entire squads being punished while succeeding squads were allowed extra sleep, extra food, leisure time.

Only once a month would there be a single day of actual break… and no one would willingly want to fuck up so badly as to get their entire squad’s single day of break revoked.

…This would continue to persist easily into the month of May, with increasing variation, increasing delegation of ranks and orders, By this time, actual patrols would begin to be carried out as “Unfettered” would have recovered, and more and more specialized training for groups would go on… Kiyoshi would take the Marina up in the north, close by to the Dragons, as other things would occur.

By May 8, 2012, “Unfettered” would watch as the maintaining training continued…

OOC: So sorry that this took so long, but I hope this is fine. When/If you can get a chance to look at this Leon, I’d appreciate it.

[Deleted]

[/url]

• Gained Marina Territory
  
• +5 NPCs
  
• +22 Motorcycles
  

Hermosa Storm

• Hermosa Beach Territory
  
• +5 permanent increase to NPC army
  
• NPC Ken Tanner, Leader of The Hunters
  
  
  
• 20 The Hunters army NPC's. (10 in each stat)

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[Zack Asiv]

[Deleted]

It was that time again. Kiyoshi and his campaigns needed more equipment for his men. Last time had been rather fruitful but had also had some negative consequences in its execution. However their forge would allow better construction for armor and weapons then just using whatever they could find.

Several teams of Crows were sent into their territories to speak with the people. They were armed for protections sake as they carried food, clean water, and amenities with them. Their message, mission, was simple.

"People of the Crows territory, we bring supplies to trade with you. Anyone with scrap metal of any kind, wood, rope or cords, heavy duty plastics, and in general anything that can be used in aiding us to defend you... please come forward. We wish to offer you fair compensation for your items."

That was the first message. The second;

"Also anyone of fighting age and ability who wishes to aid us in our fight against Barker. Come to the Crows Nest to enlist."

(OoC: Another asset acquisition throughout all 3 Crows territories. This time done in trade. GM results requested. Also attempted enlistment of general populace.)

[Zack Asiv]

Gains:
25 pounds of scrap metal
10 pounds of woord
assorted electronic devices: (three T.V's, six ipods, two radios, and an old computer tower.)

12 Minute Men (Volunteer Civilians 5 in every stat.)

[Deleted]

Kiyoshi isn't happy with the supplies but there is little he can do about that now. He designates 20 pounds on scrap metal to be melded into plates that are then attached to the light padding they gathered earlier to make armor. It shall be called Scythian armor!

The wood is fashioned into 5 hockey sticks to use as weapons.

The remaining 5 pounds of scrap metal and electronics are stored for later use on another project.

[Lucien DeChain]

{OOC: In canon, this will have taken place a few days after FEED. Meaning, Lucien is eating, but has no Qi.}

HELVETIOS
Crows Basic Training

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Lucien walked through the halls of the Nest, towards the room that had been dubbed his 'living quarters', at least for the time being. He had been given his orders, and now was just biding his time. Opening the door and walking into the room, he sighed as he looked at the walls. Bare, except for a small shelf, which held an old wooden staff on it. Looking at it with fondness, and glancing at the staff in his hand, he smiled and crossed the small room to the bed.

He chewed absentmindedly on a piece of jerky, twirling the staff in his hands. He had a feeling that his staff would be his best friend in the coming weeks, not because of sentimentality, or even its use as a weapon, but the fact that it sustained him, made it so he didn't have to eat, or sleep. That wasn't to say that those things didn't help, though.

It was getting dark. Lucien got ready for bed, deciding he needed his rest for the next day. He had been told that it was particularly... Brutal.

That's right. Tomorrow, he started Basic Training.

* * *

”GOOD MORNING, FUCKERS. RISE AND FUCKIN’ SHINE.”

Oh God.

Lucien got out of bed rather quickly, doubling back to make the bed. An act that he, indeed, could not do, because his entire room was being sprayed with a pressurized hose. The water stung Lucien's skin, and sent him flying back towards the far wall. There were some awful things that went along with being severely underweight.

As the water stopped, Lucien shook his face to get the water out of his various orifices. As soon as he could safely open his eyes, a few pieces of clothing would fall onto his face. Scrambling to get them off, he looked down at the items. On a white t-shirt, his last name was written, and there seemed to be a small black pair of shorts with it. He instantly knew what this was. It was a gym uniform.

Looking up, he saw the figures holding the hose, telling him, screaming at him to move, to stop looking like a fuckin' ghost, to get dressed NOW.

There was no time to dry off. There was no time to comb his hair, or make his bed, or brush his teeth, or floss. THERE WAS NO TIME FOR FLOSS. He dressed himself, ran out the door, and marched to the cafeteria.

* * *

Expecting a full breakfast, Lucien would smile while entering the cafeteria, but would be sadly mistaken, as all that awaited him was more screaming.

”GOOD FUCKIN’ MORNING, LADIES. WELCOME TO FUCKIN’ CAMP CANDY-ASS. YOU WILL BE SPENDING YOUR FUCKIN’ TIME TRAINING HERE, AT THE CROW’S NEST WITH ME, DRILL SERGENT TAI.

“YOU WILL FUCKIN’ ADDRESS ME AS DRILL SERGENT, DRILL SERGENT T, OR DRILL SERGENT TAI, OR SIR.

“ANYTHING ELSE WILL LEAD TO FUCKIN’ DISCIPLINING.

“THOSE WHO COULD NOT GET THEIR FUCKIN’ ASSES UP AND WERE PUNISHED BY DOUSING WILL BE FORCED TO CLEAN UP TO CLEAN UP THEIR FUCKIN’ ROOMS.

“HERE, THE ZERO’S ARE GODS AND I AM YOUR FUCKIN’ BIBLE AND YOU SHALL DO EXACTLY AS I INSTRUCT OR YOU WILL BE BOOTED OUT OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT.

“FOR THE NEXT FOUR FUCKIN’ WEEKS THERE WILL BE NO SLOUCHING, NO SMOKING, NO DRINKING, NO SNACKING, NO BREAKS OR SLEEPING WITHOUT PERMISSION. YOU WILL BE TRAINED, YOU WILL BE EXHAUSTED.

“YOU ARE HERE, BECAUSE YOU FUCKIN’ BELIEVE YOU CAN MAKE A FUCKIN’ DIFFERENCE. BECAUSE YOU ‘WANNA KILL BARKER’ AND BE ALL GOODY AND RIGHTEOUS. RIGHT NOW, RIGHT FUCKIN’ HERE, I AM TELLING YOU THAT YOU CANNOT BECAUSE YOU ARE A BUNCH OF GREEN-THUMBED ASSHATS. ”

Laughter.

”OH, I’M SORRY, ASSHAT, DID I MAKE A FUNNY? COME UP HERE."

Silence.

”FROM HERE ON YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED POSITIONS AND YOU WILL BE REFERRED TO AS YOUR POSITION. IF YOU ARE ASSIGNED AS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY,’ YOUR NEW NAME IS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY #’ OR YOUR LAST NAME.”

…This would continue on, as Tai would begin spewing on them every single militaristic issue that he could. Assigned squad leaders, assigned group leaders, handing out ranks based on investigations of previously recorded achievements. From his little made handbook, Tai watched as everyone, standing rather vulnerably in their ugly P.E. clothes, squirmed. It would be the beginning of their training, including a forced change of behavior. When needed, reasons would be explained, but for this to be a fighting force, everyone would have to break off their individual natures to work with each other as a unit, training their behavior to more easily follow orders.

”PREPARE TO FUCKIN’ CAW.”

Training had begun.

Lucien would stand at attention through pretty much all of it, because, isn't that what you were supposed to do? Lucien hadn't ever had any military training, so most of this was alien to him. He was assigned as a Scout, which he thought seemed appropriate, as he was definitely not in condition to be such things as 'heavy infantry', or 'shield'. Though, as he understood, the designation didn't really matter that much in the first month, anyways.

As everything got fleshed out, Lucien would pay close attention to everything that was said, hoping that it might give him an extra little clue as to what the rules were. A sickening feeling in his stomach emerged when he realized that since everyone was hearing these rules, they would undoubtedly have countless others that they simply expected everyone to follow.

He was put into his assigned squad of Scouts, and made to stand in a double-file formation. Due to Lucien's already supersensitive eye for detail, he would be able to maintain the standard 5 feet rule quite easily. Of course, because of this, if the other person in his row were to waver or swerve, Lucien would instinctively follow to keep the 5 foot distance, resulting in a quick yelling.

Then, they started running in double-file. Lucien would do fine at first, but after getting tired, and being yelled at to hurry up by every drill sergeant in the complex, Lucien would start to waver a bit, sometimes making the gap a bit closer to 4'11”. It didn't help that by this time, his whole squad was staggering and almost zig-zagging around the room.

They eventually went outside, and began to almost sprint in their formation. As Lucien was already tired, he tried his best to stay in impeccable formation, but the others in his squad were obviously better runners than he was. He began slowing down, noticing himself, and trying to speed up to maintain position, only to wear himself out even more.

Finally, they broke formation, and had about three minutes of rest, wherein Lucien almost stumbled to a stop, panting. Jeez, I'm tired already? What time is it...? He struggled to catch his breath, but before he could get a chance, he was running laps. After the laps? Push ups and sit ups. After those? More laps.

This cycle continued, the breaks shortening exponentially, until finally, FINALLY, it was lunch.

Lucien, while exhausted and starving, (While he spent the better part of the last fiscal year in that state, once he started to eat again, the hunger seemed to be more intense if he skipped a meal.) would manage to keep formation while they marched in to the cafeteria.

Approaching the line for food, he eagerly awaited his earnings. Once he got to the front, giddy with excitement, he received his... Two sausages, one slice of bread, one cup of orange juice and one cup of water.

But, at this point, Lucien didn't care. He ate it, and it actually filled his stomach a bit better than he figured it would fit in most. Ah, finally, an upside to being underweight...

Half an hour passed, and Lucien felt tired, but refreshed.

Another half an hour passed, and Lucien had vomited up all his food.

The afternoon consisted of more from the morning, the introduction of the 'obstacle course', and the first few runs of said course. In which, Lucien cleared the course two times out of three, with one of the worst times in the squad. At least he didn't step on one of those ugly spikes.

Dinner would come, and Lucien would be a bit more hesitant on eating a full meal, choosing only to eat half of one sausage and half of one piece of bread, with the orange juice and water in sparing portions. Though Lucien didn't think that there would be much left in the day, he was still trying to think on his toes, as if they would save the worst for the end of the day.

Then, Sergeant Tai called out to them, saying it was time for the 'After Dinner Lap'. Singular. Lucien knew that grin on his face, an old teacher had worn the same grin when he said they were doing 'only five push-ups'. And, turns out, he was right to dread, as that after dinner lap was not a lap around the half-mile blacktop. Not around the blacktop at all.

They finished their marathon around the borders of Crow Territory record time, they were told. Record as the slowest. Everyone did more push-ups, and though the sun was down, it was still expected to be as energetic as the morning.

Finally, Lucien was marching back to the Nest for bed. He was exhausted. His legs felt like rubber. And when he made his way back into his quarters, he realized... It was soaked.

He spent twenty minutes drying everything off, doing a quick but thorough job, not wanting anything to get in the way of his precious sleep. Once the small room was dry, he laid down on the bed, not even bothering to dip himself under the blankets. He grabbed his staff, and cradled it in his arms, drifting to sleep, while his staff temporarily made him feel as refreshed as ever...

He was woken up forty minutes later. Taken to the pool. He swam laps for hours.

Food. Sleep. Up. Running. Marching. Push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, skipping rope, obstacle course, food, sleep, up.

Lucien would be surprised at himself for keeping it up this long, but at the time, wouldn't have been thinking freely, as his mind was not for idle thought anymore, it had been stripped of him and replaced with the need to survive. A week had passed, by estimation. Lucien didn't know. By the end of the second day, he had started to comb his hair only 8 times, once a day. By now, he stopped combing it. If he had been able to muse, he would have mused that this constant overstimulation would be good for his compulsions.

Lucien's sore muscles seemed to be responding, though. He could now keep most of his meals down without vomiting, and slowly but surely, the amount of push-ups he needed to do as punishment decreased, as the number he could do increased.

Lucien got faster, stronger, smarter. He stood, walked, ran in formations, he yelled along to the militaristic chants. His muscles grew, and he gained weight, though he still looked too skinny to be doing all this.

By the end of the third week, he was being singled out in his squad for excellence. Of course, the reward was more push-ups, but Lucien did not take the compliments lightly, as these same Sergeants were screaming at him for weeks.

Finally, Drill Sergeant Tai announced that it was the last day of the first month that was Basic Training. Of course, there was no reprieve from the usual, but Lucien had a drive, and he completed the last of the training with more ease than he had ever expected of himself.

He reported to Sergeant Tai, staying in formation with everyone else as he did, and heard his hoarse voice say,

“Every fuckin' name I say, you're being assigned to specific squads for month two!...”

He listened intently, as he had learned to, and eventually, he heard it.

“fuckin... DeChain! You're being assigned to the Wolfpack, under Prasad.”

Lucien blinked. He was being trained by... Marcus?

{OOC: BASIC TRAINING GET! Word Count minus quotes and code; 1682 words.}

[Koshiro WarHazzard]

”GOOD MORNING, FUCKERS. RISE AND FUCKIN’ SHINE.”

”LET THE HAZING BEGIN!”

A pressurized hose and Tai, barking inches away from his troops faces, with a threatening lead pipe in his hands, roused the entirety of the Nest, along with a few selected Militia. Other Militia members who were not part of the project would jump to attention. Those still in the midst of waking up would often wake up to full, hearing the pained screams as entire rooms would be shot and flooded with a pressurized hose.
Koshiro was still asleep when Tai came in. He had not been screamed out of bed like this since he joined the merc bands. A cold shiver slowly overtook his dream. As Koshiro was a heavy sleeper, He was quickly getting closer and closer to awake.
“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” He screamed as he awoke to the freezing water. Unfortunately he was on the top bunk.
He jumped and slammed his head into the ceiling, hard. After slamming his head he fell from the top bunk to the floor.

I am gonna have to start sleeping lighter
he thought as he stood up.

Tai: “WAKE UP DUMDASS!!” Tai slammed the metal bar into Koshiro’s stomach.

Koshiro: “Good morning, Sir!” He managed to get out as he caught his breath. He had slept in his clothes so he would be ready that morning.

They would marched on out to the Mess Hall-turned Auditorium (Fuckin’ again), with Tai, Dora, “Green,” Roger, and a few others standing at attention, next to Tai. Kiyoshi, if he so chose, would be welcome to observe, but would be requested kindly to just watch.

Tai began calling off names.
“ANDERSON!”

SIR!

“Blake”

Sir!

He would go down the line and call off everyone’s names, until he got to Koshiro

“WARHAZZARD……” Tai almost trailed off

Koshiro really didn’t like that name right now. “SIR!”

Tai stopped, (Helpful since Koshiro was the last one on Role Call)

“WarHazzard eh?” Tai said with a dark tone.

“Y-Yes Sir!” He almost couldn’t respond.

“That is a very hated name, Especially since your FUCKING COUSIN WORKED WITH BARKER HIMSELF!!!” Tai yelled that last bit so everyone in the nest could hear.
Koshiro saw everything stop and everyone looked directly at him.
Koshiro swallowed a deep swallow, he had been in battles that almost killed him, been in situations that he wanted to die, Hell he had been through basic training once before, but this…..this was going to suck.

“SIR, I Heard SIR” He really wasn’t thinking that time.

“OH YOU KNOW DO YOU? WHAT ELSE DO YOU KNOW FUCK FACE! DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FUCK AN ELEPHANT!? WHY DON’T WE GO HAVE A DRINK FROM YOUR MAMA’S TITS AND TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU KNOW!” Tai punched him in the gut and continued talking to the new troops.

”GOOD FUCKIN’ MORNING, LADIES. WELCOME TO FUCKIN’ CAMP CANDY-ASS. YOU WILL BE SPENDING YOUR FUCKIN’ TIME TRAINING HERE, AT THE CROW’S NEST WITH ME, DRILL SERGENT TAI.”

“YOU WILL FUCKIN’ ADDRESS ME AS DRILL SERGENT, DRILL SERGENT T, OR DRILL SERGENT TAI, OR SIR.”

“ANYTHING ELSE WILL LEAD TO FUCKIN’ DISCIPLINING.”

“THOSE WHO COULD NOT GET THEIR FUCKIN’ ASSES UP AND WERE PUNISHED BY DOUSING WILL BE FORCED TO CLEAN UP TO CLEAN UP THEIR FUCKIN’ ROOMS.”

“HERE, THE ZERO’S ARE GODS AND I AM YOUR FUCKIN’ BIBLE AND YOU SHALL DO EXACTLY AS I INSTRUCT OR YOU WILL BE BOOTED OUT OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT.”
All the troops would respond in unison “SIR! YES SIR”

“DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK LADIES! DROP AND GIVE ME 30!” While they were doing push ups he would continue going around and standing Zero’s on their backs at random

“FOR THE NEXT FOUR FUCKIN’ WEEKS THERE WILL BE NO SLOUCHING, NO SMOKING, NO DRINKING, NO SNACKING, NO BREAKS OR SLEEPING WITHOUT PERMISSION. YOU WILL BE TRAINED, YOU WILL BE EXHAUSTED."

He got to Koshiro who was a merc, and having absolutely no trouble with the punishment.
Tai looked over at 2 zero’s and nodded them the the young recruit. They would both get on his back, but Koshiro kept going, Trying to look as though that did nothing to him.

Tai: “ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS DUMBASS??? I LIKE TO SEE THE PAIN ON YOUR FACE AS YOU STRUGGLE TO WORK. YOU GET 30 MORE FUCK FACE!!!” He continued after screwing Koshiro over.

“YOU ARE HERE, BECAUSE YOU FUCKIN’ BELIEVE YOU CAN MAKE A FUCKIN’ DIFFERENCE. BECAUSE YOU ‘WANNA KILL BARKER’ AND BE ALL GOODY AND RIGHTEOUS. RIGHT NOW, RIGHT FUCKIN’ HERE, I AM TELLING YOU THAT YOU CANNOT BECAUSE YOU ARE A BUNCH OF GREEN-THUMBED ASSHATS. ”

Laughter……from Koshiro. He really couldn’t hold it in this time.

”OH, I’M SORRY, ASSHAT, DID I MAKE A FUNNY? COME UP HERE.
“OH IT WAS MY FAVORITE FUCKER! COME HERE”

Koshiro: Fuck! I really need to learn to shut up.

Tai: “FUCKER YOU ALMOST HAVE ME STUMMPED AS TO WHAT TO DO TO YOU. AND IT’S STILL THE FIST FUCKING DAY! IS THIS TO TRIVIAL FOR YOU IDIOT? DO YOU WANNA TAKE ON BARKER ALONE? HAVE YOU GOT THIS? IF NOT I’LL LAY IT OUT PLAIN AND SIMPLE. I WILL COMPLETELY FUCK YOU OVER! YOU WILL BE CROW MATERIAL IF IT KILLS YOU, NO NOT ME. YOU. NOW GET BACK IN LINE!” He kicked the young crow back into line and continued.

”FROM HERE ON YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED POSITIONS AND YOU WILL BE REFERRED TO AS YOUR POSITION. IF YOU ARE ASSIGNED AS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY,’ YOUR NEW NAME IS ‘HEAVY INFANTRY #’ OR YOUR LAST NAME.”

…This would continue on, as Tai would begin spewing on them every single militaristic issue that he could.
As he assigned squad leaders, and assigned group leaders, he pointed to Koshiro

“YOU FUCKER…WARHAZZARD. YOU GET TO BE A GROUP LEADER. GROUP KILO! ATTENTION!” As the Kilo group formed up he looked at Koshiro

“Thank you Sir?” He was very confused. He thought Tai hated him, but was giving him a squad.

What the hell?

Tai: “OH NO FUCKER DON’T THANK ME!” he would pull Koshiro off and say one more thing.

“I can’t think of a more interesting thing to do to you, when all of these men hate you. You’re going to have to juggle insubordination and shit thrown from the Squad leaders at you. Enjoy it fucker.”

This guy is completely nuts!!!!

Tai looked back at him with a grimace as though he could almost hear Koshiro’s thoughts. He swallowed one last time and joined his group in the lines.

handing out ranks based on investigations of previously recorded achievements. From his little made handbook.

Tai: “KILO, YOU ARE STEALTH AND RECON.”

Kilo group: “SIR, YES SIR!!!”

Tai watched as everyone, standing rather vulnerably in their ugly P.E. clothes, squirmed. It would be the beginning of their training, including a forced change of behavior. When needed, reasons would be explained, but for this to be a fighting force, everyone would have to break off their individual natures to work with each other as a unit, training their behavior to more easily follow orders.

”PREPARE TO FUCKIN’ CAW.”

Training had begun.

A week passed and he wasn’t sure what to do. As Tai predicted, his squad was insubordinate and not even remotely going to listen to him. Tai was pressing in on him. Koshiro needed a break somewhere, Just one soldier. He walked along the corridor not really paying any attention.

“ What do you mean, dead?

I mean dead, she is gone. They said something about a gang or something.

Koshiro: What’s going on over their

What gang?

They aren't sure. I'm sorr……wait shh shh AssHazzard is coming over here

Koshiro: What are you idiot’s doing. Attention!

Um, ha. No.

No?” Koshiro pushed Anderson back into the wall.
“I’m sorry did I ask you?” Koshiro pushed his insubordinate soldier to the floor.
“Give me 50 soldier!”
He looked at the other soldier.
“Blake. What’s going on?”

Blake got really quiet. After a few moments she spoke

“Sir. Anderson was giving me a message…..Uh…”
She started choking up in tears
“My mother was killed.”

He, standing on the back of the other soldier, stepped down and started walking with Blake back to barracks.

Anderson tried to get up.
“I ONLY COUNTED 30 SOLDIER! GET YOUR ASS DOWN THERE AND GIVE ME 50 MORE!” He yelled back as they walked away.


“I’m sorry Blake.” They talked and walked all the way back to barracks talking about her mother. Koshiro was understanding and kind to Blake even though she and the others had been relentless on him. Finally after an hour of talking she looked at him and stopped.

“Why are you being nice to me? I have been just as bad as the others.”

“Because there is no reason to be that way in return to you.”

She looked at him with understanding and nodded.
After that Blake and several others got better. They started listening more and getting into shape of a squad. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was becoming like Tai or if Blake was helping him out. He preferred to believe the latter.

Koshiro knew this wasn’t the end. Tai would find some other way to make him miserable. He would accept the challenge Tai threw at him.