RP: Elysia [Elysia Novus] Barracks - Day 3

Schuyler showered quickly, rubbing soap over himself, but more than anything just going through the motions. He was thinking about far too many things to concentrate at the moment. He towelled off and headed over for the mess hall.

Schuyler didnt really like chocolate...so he choked back feelings of nausea as he ate. He learned there were worse things than not liking a meal. He still managed to finish quickly however, and walked outside.

Something told him today would be quite entertaining, but he wasnt sure why.

Evenael took his shower and came out looking no better than when he'd went in, besides the fact he wasn't covered in dirt and dust. His bangs stuck to the sides fo his face and he tucked them back behind his ears.

Evanael acctually enjoyed the taste of the "food" for breakfast. He made no complaints as usuall. This time around though he did take a nervous look at Nerael, wanting seconds, but he nothing about that either.

Once they were back outside he let himself relax. He spread his wings just a bit to help dry them off. He folded ihs wings a bit and then walked up beside Schuyler and staid silent.

Schuyler looked to his side and saw the unlucky recruit standing next to him. He didnt look too much worse for wear, but he probably didnt feel completely perfect. He had just jumped from 300 feet up, and broken a fair amount of the bones in his body.

"You probably already know this..." Schuyler said looking forward again "but I dont think it would be wise to show up late again."

He shifted on his feet slightly, pointing his shoulder into the light breeze coming across the parade deck.

Upon hearing the words Evanael rolled his eyes. 'Why thanks for the warning' he thought sourly and then mumbled "Wonder what the punishment for getting up early would be..." Was what he said, trying to make light of his turn of events.

Evanael shifted on his feet and then sub-consciously ran his hands over his wings, down his back and then over his legs and feet, noting the sore parts of his legs and feet. Thirty feet wasn't so bad, but he knew by the end of the day his feet and legs would be giving him grief. He sighed softly to himself and walked off to be with his thoughts.

Feeling the breeze he spread his wings and walked straight, thinking, thinking and thinking until he ran smack-dab into a wall. Evanael took a step back and then rubbed his forehead with his hand. He shook his head softly and then turned and walked back over to where the rest of the cadets were gathering.

At the end of the hall, sitting cross legged on the table and looking slowly over the cadets sat Reomael. Well at least he presumed they were his cadets. They certainly looked like cadets and they were where his cadets were meant to be. As such the only relatively logical and reasonable deduction that could be made was that they were indeed his cadets. Or at least the cadets he was going to instruct. They didn't look particularly competent, or indeed particularly incompetent, but Reomael knew that appearances could be highly deceptive – for better or worse.

Reomael was a Plebeian, and in coloration was perfectly normal – slightly pale Caucasian skin, blond hair and bright blue eyes, and he was garbed in the standard mesh of a Plebeian Enlisted. However he did not hold himself like a standard Plebeian, his superior posture bringing him to well over six foot, and there was a certain ... warmth about him that contrasted with that which came of most officers. In fact his face was set in something of a semi-smile. He flicked a strand of hair away from his eyes and spoke at normal dynamics but with a voice which carried throughout the hall,

"Hello everyone. I am Reomael and I shall be instructing you in the use of various firearms, so when you've finished eating meet me out in the yard and I'll take you to the firing range alright? Alright, I'll see you in a little while.â€

Evanael looked up at Reomael as he spoke and then followed him outside, allready having finished his meager meal. He shadowed the Plebeian for several minute before stopping to puzzle something over. He picked his head up again and stuided Reomael.

Right off the bat he was attracted to something this specific individual had and Evanael immediately distrusted his feelings. As proven with Nerael, it was better to kill yourself doing better than your peers than to die making up for the mistakes you made, he'd treat Reomael the same.

Even in this deep state of thought he seemed to keep loosing himself in, he still managed a delyed response as he walked into another wall and backed off and then scowled and rattled off a few colorful swears and rubbed at the bump forming on his skull. If he didn't stop that his forehead would be twice as big as his head eventually. Well at least thats what it seemed like.

Reomael stopped his pacing when he noticed one of his cadets walking inelegantly into the wall. Of course beyond the results of said collision the cadet was looking fairly rugged – and not if the attractive mysterious fashion more like the ‘I've collided with the ground. Rather hard' fashion. Reomael felt just a little concerned – after all walking into walls wasn't particularly constructive for a educational environment. And as such he crossed the remainder of the courtyard,

"You alright lad?â€

Evanael was clearly caught off gaurd when Raomael spoke to him. He flinched away from Reomael and barely avoided jumping into the wall again. With an angry glare at the wall Evanael turned his eyes from the wall to Reomael and then after a few moments of indecision his scheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"No, No I'm not..." He said. At least he could count on his fingers what all hurt, but he wasn't about to go through said list at the moment unless asked. With another angry and futile glare at the wall Evanael seemed intent on inspecting his boots.

Roemael crouched down until his eyes were level with Evanael's, and gave him a rather wide grin "And are you go to unleash your torrent of woes onto me laddo? Because I'm always here to talk to/at."

Evanael was nearly speechless. His cheeks turned a bright red and he backed off a bit. And then he eyed Reomael and finally spilt the beans, speaking softly so he wasn't heard. "Well... My feet are sore, I've got bruises on my legs, I seem to keep walking into wall and smacking my head against them, I've got a headache, the food is terrible..." He went onto tell the obvious "...I can't fly, there's no one nice to talk to and I think your....." he caught himself mid way through his last sentence and gagged on the last of his words and shut up.

"Well that's quite a load lad. I'll try and get through them one by one if you don't mind." Roemael smiled gently looking at this cadet who was rather down on his luck as far as he could tell, "Sorry to hear about the sore feet and the bruises - if you ask nicely at the medical centre they might give you some cream for it, otherwise just try not to think about it. As for the walls - I know it might be cliche I find that standing a little straighter and keeping your head up makes it a lot easier to avoid objects up to an including walls. The headache - go get some water kid, that tends to help quite a lot. I personally like the food, but hey - you're fully entitled to your opinions. Diversity is great." He paused before moving onto the second block of questions.

"I admit that conversation can be a little sparse - but I'm relatively nice. Well I think so anyway. As for the lack of flight - I can't really sympathise. I like being on the ground, it helps me know where I am."

Evanael picked his head up when it turned out that Reomael wasn't going to tell him shut up and face it like a man. He blinked softly and listened for once at what Reomael had to say. He watched the man for a bit and then finally gave him a small smile and finished his last sentence "And I think your......cute?" He offered shyly.

Roemael looked at him softly, "Perfectly understandable. I am. And I'm going to say that you're not unatractive yourself. However this is not the time or the place for a discussion of nature." Roemael brushed away a strand of Evanael's hair, "But a discussion we will have."

Roemael stood up slowly and walked away with a grin on his face, an interesting development certainly.

Evanael stared after Reomael for a bit before he worked his jaw and then echoed the Plebeian's grin and wandered aimlessly while waiting. First off with torture and then Nerael wanting to talk to him, being miserable and then running into Reomael, a torrent of feelings and finally yet another talk with his superior about nature.

Evanael blinked and put his head up, like Reomael had suggested and didn't run into anymore walls for the time being. He finally found a spot to stand and wait for the rest of the cadets to get their butts out into the court-yard. He wanted so badly for this day to hurry up and end.

Schuyler just watched the new man enter, and dismissed the conversation between Evanael and Reomael as infatuation. He didnt have to hear the words to see the look in his eyes.

Schuyler was ready to get on with it, he just wanted to learn whatever it was they were going to teach him, get good at it, and then go use it. The formalities were killing him.

Reomael waited for everyone to gather before speaking to them in his gently penetrating voice, "If you'll follow me I'll take you to the firing range and we can get started. Alright? Alright." Reomael smiled at them before walking off towards the firing range.

The firing range was a building which had twenty booth in it, and inside each booth there was a volumetric image projector which could create a perfect impression of any target and simulate most other situations really. Behind them was a series of weapon lockers. The one currently open had a number of practice Atromos rifles - ones that would only workin in a Volumetric Setting.

"Collect a gun and look over it. Become familiar with it, and I mean real familiar. I want you to know every inch of this weapon as you do your own bodies - once your finished it should act as an extension of your body."

Evanael took a good look around before he even approached the weapons lockers and finally picked out a gun. He leaned up against a wall, displaced from the rest of the cadets and set to work, looking at everything and remembering where everything was. Than with a glance around Evanael began to go over his gun again, finding all loose peices and gently prying them off one by one, remembering where the peices went. He put it back together again from memory.

Schuyler plucked a newer looking piece from the rack, and walked away from the group. He was more interested in the workings and how it fired, than he was how all the parts went together. He just wanted to shoot some stuff.

He started taking pieces off of it, and setting them aside, noting where each piece went, and keeping entire assemblies together. The action, the handle, the slide, the springs...he made sure that he had them all where he could remember how they went back together.

After he had stripped the weapon, he reassembled it, dissassembled it, and assembled it once more. After having done it once slowly from trial and error, along with memory, the second time was much faster, and he was far more comfortable with how it went together.

He took his newly aquired weapon and sighted down range towards the blank wall. He lined up the sights, moved the weapon in a small circle, keeping the sights aligned. He lowered the weapon to the "ready" position, and then quickly re-aligned the sights with his eyes, ready to fire. He repeated this several times, each time working on his grip on the weapon, the way his cheek weld matched with the stock of the rifle, and how relaxed he was with the weapon in his hands.

He would much rather have more range...killing something from a mile away appealed to him for some odd reason. He lowered the weapon, and waited for the next instruction.

Evanael took time to test the sights aswell, aiming the gun out into the firing range. He altered his stance like if he were actually going to fire the gun. Some guns he remembered could have a very bad recoil and if you weren't careful to brace yourself you could fall right over. He shifted the gun a bit so it was even more aligned with him and then lowered the gun. He studied the gun again and then, making sure the saftey was on, he held the stock of the gun and rested the barrle against his shoulder.

Backing up He leaned back against the wall. Evanael closed his eyes listening to the rest of them work and test out their guns. Just the opposite of Schuyler ,he wanted to be back with the swords. He was better at close range combat, but with training he guessed he could do just as good with a gun.

Roemael gave them more than enough time to get familiar with their weapons before moving on to the next stage, "Alright, we're going to start a simulation of an opponent at one hundred metres. For simplicity we're chosing a Yamataian/Nepleslian opponent - Mishhu will come later. Every ten shots the target will become harder and more intelligant - dodging and so forth. We'll stop when it seems like a good time to move on."

The booths began to blur and the image of a fully armed human appeared what seemed one hundred metres away - standing perfectly stationary.