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Post by Sam Guthrie on Oct 23, 2007 1:31:22 GMT -4
The semi-permanent scowl that normally affixed the face of Commander Samuel Guthrie had faded considerably upon his descent into his private archives. The once immaculate, well organised system of files and folders were now scattered all over his desk. His eyes had taken on an almost glazed over look as he frantically scanned the various special projects that he had placed in his "reserve" section over the past few months.
He had procured a bottle of something fiery earlier that evening, supposedly to help him relax, but it had begun to scatter his thoughts much like the files he had begun to throw all over his office. Samuel had nearly finished the whole thing himself.
"Application of Infern....Scoffing...." He murmured to himself, trying to make sense of the blurred words on the page before him.
He cursed loudly, his frustration with his own inability to live up to his lord's standards and that fact that his best efforts were going unnoticed forming a deadly double team on his mind.
Samuel Guthrie was a desperate man. A man in need of something....different...
His eyes reddened with a strange mad genius is attempted to scrawl out a note, but he collapsed in a heap part way through.
The crash of the glass bottle against the floor didn't even stir him.
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Oct 23, 2007 14:31:24 GMT -4
Maybe it had been Kenny's 'just friends' comment, maybe it was just a bad night, maybe she'd convinced herself that the base ought to be patrolled once in a while - either way, Deefer wasn't sleeping, she was walking. It was probably lucky that she was, because she heard the crash as the bottle hit the floor, and was the first person to find the Commander in his state - if it had been anyone else, or he'd stayed like that all night, things could have gone badly.
Deefer, of course, wouldn't say anything about this to anyone, and as she closed the door behind her and set about beginning to tidy up the files, she didn't even let herself make any judgements on it - apart from the brief, tiny wondering of what had driven him to this state.
She tidied a little, then resolved to do the rest later, the first thing she had to do was wake the commander and get him to bed, the desk was not condusive to sleeping. "Sir?" she reached out, shaking his shoulder gently "Commander, wake up..."
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Oct 23, 2007 16:58:44 GMT -4
There was no movement at first, then a low groan as Samuel lifted his head from the desk top. He winced as the bright light of his desk lamp shone in his face, and feebly aimed the beam away from his view.
The arrogant pride that defined him had been removed from his features, his bloodshot blue eyes showing a sort of sad futileness that rarely crossed his features. Although Samuel showed any weakness, the drink and his desperation had disarmed him.
And he realized all too late that he was not alone.
"Oh....Mallone...I was...." Samuel murmured, "Working on some new...prospective....avenues..."
There was a long pause as he looked at his newly tidied files.
"I must have nodded off...." He added, in an attempt to justify his current state.
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Oct 23, 2007 17:06:24 GMT -4
Deefer had definitely not got where she was today by being an idiot, there was no way she was believing that lie. If the way he looked wasn't obvious enough, the smell in the room from the smashed bottle spoke volumes. Of course, just as she wasn't stupid enough to believe the lie, she also wasn't stupid enough to say anything about it.
"It's late, sir, you should probably go to bed." she replied diplomatically "I'll finish tidying up in here." she offered, from the looks of him he could just do with sleeping this off, trying to tidy the place up probably wouldn't help.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Oct 24, 2007 1:32:55 GMT -4
He nodded numbly, and rose to his feet. He needed to get to bed, things would look better in the morning, at least he hoped they would be. Placing a strong hand on her shoulder (for support just as much as anything else), Samuel addressed Mallone the best he could:
"There's no need Mallone..." He croaked, "I'll have one of the trainees handle it in the morning...."
He stumbled, nearly falling over himself, but managed to prevent a nasty crash.
"It's never enough..." Samuel murmured quietly, "No matter what you do...you can never...do enough..."
He lurched clumsily into the hall, attempting to make his way to the barracks alone.
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Oct 24, 2007 15:00:30 GMT -4
"It's quite all right sir, I don't mind doing it." Ordinarily, it'd be a fine task for trainees. But young soldiers hadn't yet learnt to keep their mouths shut, and the room needed to be cleaned up fairly quickly, before the alcohol smell stuck around for days.
She would get on that right... after she made sure the commander got to bed safely. Something had definitely gotten to him - apart from the bottle of whatever spirit was spreading across the floor - and it was...almost disturbing to see him like that. She shook her head, pushing aside all analysis of the situation and just taking stock of the facts. If anybody ran into the commander in this state there would be trouble, not to mention who knows what could happen on the way back to his room.
Closing the door behind her, she half-ran to catch up with him, looping an arm round his shoulders "Let me give you a hand, sir." She didn't make any comment about him obviously needing it - drunk people were unpredictable, and Guthrie was bad enough sober.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Oct 28, 2007 21:22:12 GMT -4
"Thank you Mallone....I'm a bit...unstable...at the moment...it would seem.." He said, trailing off at the end into an unintelligible set of mumbles.
"I really do try....my dear, to be the best..." He added, without any sort of prompting, "I try...."
He groaned and threw his head backwards, gazing at the celing intently; as if it would actually do something other than exist as a ceiling. His steps were clumsy and wobblily, as if his legs were made of rubber, and each step was increasing awkward to complete as his legs refused to obey his commands.
"Damned legs." He cursed, "Damned room..."
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Oct 28, 2007 22:06:32 GMT -4
Deefer wrapped her arm round his shoulders more steadily, bringing her other hand over to take hold of his arm and keep him upright and walking straight. Him staring at the ceiling did not make that any easier.
There was a pause while she debated whether or not to reply to him, but then again, the likelihood of him remembering any of this tomorrow morning, considering his state, was pretty damn low. "You are the best, sir, that's why you're the commander." she told him calmly, no patronising tone in her voice, she meant it - and it was vaguely unsettling to see that he wasn't quite as cocky as he made out. No, it was just the alcohol talking, he'd be back to normal in the morning. He'd have a godawful headache, but he'd be back to normal.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Oct 31, 2007 9:55:38 GMT -4
"I am.....The Commander...." Samuel echoed numbly, "The best....."
Mallone was incredible, and if he were sober he would have praised her for her initiative and her dedication to him. Of course, in any other situation, Samuel would have hidden his thoughts, his intentions, from the ears of his troops. But now the alcohol had liberated that which he had been trained to subdue, and his mouth could not be kept shut.
"It's a real pity...." Samuel said, "Truly a pity...that a fool like Orion has a woman like you...That a fool like Orion has any woman at all..."
The woman he loved despised him. Flat out despised him, and for what? His blunt nature? His righteous dedication to the cause? His confidence?
And yet she flocked to the side of that priest, a man sworn to celibacy and isolation from feminine charms! She clung to the sleeves of a man that was unattainable, when a more than adequate man was just inches away from her.
He'd never understand women. Ever.
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Oct 31, 2007 11:16:02 GMT -4
The commander was being uncharacteristically...honest, though considering his usual blunt nature, perhaps that wasn't the right word... forthcoming, maybe. Clearly he was a talkative drunk.
"Mm." she replied non-commitally, though it definitely verged on agreement - Kenny certainly wouldn't have a woman like her for long if he went round referring to them as 'just friends' on national TV.
Reaching his door, she had to manoeuvre the both of them awkwardly so she could reach the handle and open it. "Come on sir, you get into bed and I'll go fetch you a glass of water." Maybe she'd get a bucket as well...just in case.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Nov 7, 2007 10:49:05 GMT -4
"Mmh...Thank you...." Samuel said, as his feet awkwardy attempted to settle on solid ground. The damned things would simply not obey his mental commands. How dare they!
He took a few stumbling steps forward, entering his room. Determined, he set out to reach his bed without incident. Aside from a rather embarassing half trip/half swan dive, into bed he looked alright.
Never let it be said that Samuel Guthrie was not self sufficient.
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Nov 11, 2007 20:17:46 GMT -4
Deefer was as quick as she could fetching the water, and the bucket (it never hurt to be prepared), because she wasn't sure he was entirely stable - once he was in bed, once he'd had something to drink, then maybe she'd leave him alone. Or maybe she'd stay for a bit, just until he went to sleep, just to make sure... Maybe.
She returned, closing the door behind her, glad there was nobody around to interrupt her 'mission'. "Here you go sir," she placed the bucket beside the bed, passing him the glass of water "Here's some water, it might help to drink it." Well, it might not help right now, but his hangover wouldn't be quite so bad tomorrow if he drank it now.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Nov 12, 2007 19:10:59 GMT -4
Guthrie sleepily raised his head from his pillow at Deefer's approach.
Such a remarkable girl. So capable in every way.... She was a perfect example of a soldier; her obeidience and loyalty had never been at fault, and had never failed to complete her objectives. And now Samuel was seeing that she was certainly a fine example of a human being as well.
And yet he pined for a woman who would barely let him know her. How did a fool like Orion get to be so lucky? What did he have that Commander Samuel Guthrie lacked? Perhaps his mind lacked the clarity it usually did, but to his knowledge there was no reason why he didn't deserve to have exactly what he wanted.
But the thing that he wanted most, that he thirsted for, would never be his.
And to top it all off, he was thirsty. As luck would have it though, Mallone had exactly what he needed.
"Thank you..." Samuel said, reaching for the glass, "I'm....not well...it would seem....it's been a difficult evening to endure..."
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Post by Deefer Mallone on Nov 12, 2007 22:08:37 GMT -4
She carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. Just to make sure he didn't spill any of the water. She refrained from commenting, though a small part of her, the part that usually didn't get much of a say, was pointing out that maybe she should try and reassure him. She ignored that part quite studiously - oh, the odd comment of support here and there would be fine, he was drunk enough to think nothing of it, she was sure, but anything more than that and things would get a bit weird. She didn't think he needed that though, he wasn't the type of man to accept pity or sympathy, even while drunk. The best she could do is offer what support she could without delving into the world of soppy and pathetic uplifting statements, which were usually false anyway.
Instead, she nodded slightly, though that tiny, compassionate (and horribly illogical) part of her forced her to at least manage a surprisingly gentle "You'll feel much better after a good night's sleep."
It intrigued her, if she were to step back from herself, how she was handling this situation - and not just what she was doing physically, because that seemed perfectly natural, look after the commander and clean up the evidence, it's what any good soldier ought to have done. But mentally... well, she'd gone from studiously ignoring all consideration to it and just staying businesslike, to analyzing whether or not she should be offering words of support. She almost sighed, this was getting terribly complicated. The strangest thing was, though at first she'd been almost disturbed to see him in this state, there was something about it that just... before he'd seemed to perfect, so untouchable, and now he just seemed that little bit softer. And for some reason that Deefer couldn't quite fathom, she thought that was a good thing.
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Post by Sam Guthrie on Nov 22, 2007 16:08:48 GMT -4
Samuel took a slow sip from the glass, letting the cool water run down his throat.
"Perhaps...I find it hard to sleep..." He replied, still clutching the glass in his hands, "The enemies of His Imperial Majesty are everywhere, and it is my task to eliminate them..."
And he was failing. The dismal truth of it all was that the damn things just wouldn't die, and they grew more frustratingly resilient after each battle. Those "Ultron" machines were proof of it. Even the mighty Sentinels had trouble dealing with them, and they were supposedly the greatest war machines in the entire empire. Shows how much those bookish, weak engineers knew about war.
And his lord demanded their extermination. Not the engineers, but the humans.
"Those disgusting...vermin..." He said sourly, "All of them.....like my father was..."
Oops. The drink had made him far too open, too exposed. His drunk of a father was surely dead, or at least rotting away in one of the many Imperial prisons. It was unfortunate that he hadn't been placed under Samuel's watchful eye, he would have surely been handled appropriately.
Obviously uncomfortable with his slip of the tongue, he clumsily changed the subject.
"Hopefully...you'll be right." Samuel stated plainly, "And things will look better in the morning.. "
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