If Mahan Could See Us Now
- Thread starter 4WheelSword
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[x] You made a fool of yourself at a cadet ball. (-Diplomacy)
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
Inserted tally
C1P3: A Day at the Office
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
It is difficult to remember the cadet ball that was supposed to be the proudest night of your life with anything but a sick feeling in your stomach. You had graduated, you were to be an officer, you had an opportunity to dance with the most powerful men and women in the Kingdom before you went away to sea.
But nobody had ever really taken the time to teach you anything but how to curtsy to your betters, or what you could and could not mention in front of the Princes. Nor had they deigned to mention just how strong Stolrussian spirits were and how they didn't share the tradition of watering their drinks with ice or otherwise. You remember little of the night but you could never forget being dragged out of the main hall of the winter palace by the scruff of your neck, marines pinning your arms to your side. Nor, however hard you tried, could you forget a week in the brig or the chewing out that you received from increasingly senior officers over a period of months.
At least you had your own little empire to soothe your wounds. The Victualling offices were responsible for the supply of food, fuel and ammunition to the entire Southern fleet and any visiting forces as well. Without you and your offices the navy could not eat, sail or fight. Even if you could not go to sea you knew that you were an important cog in the gigantic machine.
Only two of the handful of faces at work in your office look up when you walk in. Bo'sun Leo Maximov is a skinny reed of a man with neither any particular confidence or talent for his position - but at least he is loyal and committed to you. The other, Leytenant Motya Alexandrova, is a different kettle of fish entirely. Tall, muscular and blonde she is the image of a naval officer and should have been commanding a destroyer by all accounts. She has never been anything but cold to you and you are not surprised - she is not Kievan after all.
When the Kievan King married the Stolrussian Queen nine years ago, the state of Vanmark was formed in what is almost universally regarded across Kieva as a terrible choice. The parliament, the civil service, even the Markka was unified. The military commands, and especially the navies, remained distinct and for that you are truly grateful. You have had to put up with exchange officers like Leytenant Alexandrova, but that is a small cross to bear to maintain your national pride.
"Good morning, Leytenant. Did you enjoy your walk?"
Alexandrova lives on base and would barely have had to suffer the biting cold on the way here. You fight off a scowl as you hang your thick coat in a closet and rub your hands together, trying desperately to warm up.
"Of course. Everything is looking just so, just as befits the Kevian Navy."
"Yes, well, isn't it glorious to be a part of the Vanmark armed forces." The woman was smiling. It was an unnerving look.
Sitting at your desk you slide out a drawer, frustrated with how tense your shoulders already feel just minutes after arriving. It's time to start the day off right.
You have a vice. What is it?
[ ] Cigarettes
[ ] Alcohol
[ ] Write-in
Your work ethic could be described as?
[ ] You have subordinates for a reason (Diplomacy test)
[ ] You are invested in each and every detail (Strategy test)
[ ] You can make a fast buck out of being a quartermaster (Subterfuge test)
[ ] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
But nobody had ever really taken the time to teach you anything but how to curtsy to your betters, or what you could and could not mention in front of the Princes. Nor had they deigned to mention just how strong Stolrussian spirits were and how they didn't share the tradition of watering their drinks with ice or otherwise. You remember little of the night but you could never forget being dragged out of the main hall of the winter palace by the scruff of your neck, marines pinning your arms to your side. Nor, however hard you tried, could you forget a week in the brig or the chewing out that you received from increasingly senior officers over a period of months.
At least you had your own little empire to soothe your wounds. The Victualling offices were responsible for the supply of food, fuel and ammunition to the entire Southern fleet and any visiting forces as well. Without you and your offices the navy could not eat, sail or fight. Even if you could not go to sea you knew that you were an important cog in the gigantic machine.
Only two of the handful of faces at work in your office look up when you walk in. Bo'sun Leo Maximov is a skinny reed of a man with neither any particular confidence or talent for his position - but at least he is loyal and committed to you. The other, Leytenant Motya Alexandrova, is a different kettle of fish entirely. Tall, muscular and blonde she is the image of a naval officer and should have been commanding a destroyer by all accounts. She has never been anything but cold to you and you are not surprised - she is not Kievan after all.
When the Kievan King married the Stolrussian Queen nine years ago, the state of Vanmark was formed in what is almost universally regarded across Kieva as a terrible choice. The parliament, the civil service, even the Markka was unified. The military commands, and especially the navies, remained distinct and for that you are truly grateful. You have had to put up with exchange officers like Leytenant Alexandrova, but that is a small cross to bear to maintain your national pride.
"Good morning, Leytenant. Did you enjoy your walk?"
Alexandrova lives on base and would barely have had to suffer the biting cold on the way here. You fight off a scowl as you hang your thick coat in a closet and rub your hands together, trying desperately to warm up.
"Of course. Everything is looking just so, just as befits the Kevian Navy."
"Yes, well, isn't it glorious to be a part of the Vanmark armed forces." The woman was smiling. It was an unnerving look.
Sitting at your desk you slide out a drawer, frustrated with how tense your shoulders already feel just minutes after arriving. It's time to start the day off right.
You have a vice. What is it?
[ ] Cigarettes
[ ] Alcohol
[ ] Write-in
Your work ethic could be described as?
[ ] You have subordinates for a reason (Diplomacy test)
[ ] You are invested in each and every detail (Strategy test)
[ ] You can make a fast buck out of being a quartermaster (Subterfuge test)
[ ] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
- Location
- Somewhere in the stacks
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Cigarettes
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
- Location
- U S of A
[jk] Write-in (Kittens)
(Unless that's actually allowed, in which case very much not jk)
[X] Alcohol
stereotypical Russian is go - mostly because I have a personal distaste for cigarettes.
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
Edit: Changed vote
(Unless that's actually allowed, in which case very much not jk)
[X] Alcohol
stereotypical Russian is go - mostly because I have a personal distaste for cigarettes.
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
Edit: Changed vote
Last edited:
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
[X] (Vice) Small animals
[X] You have subordinates for a reason (Diplomacy test)
Listen, these cats are obviously not pets, they're vermin control. As a viticuler, we need to maximize the lifespan of our perishables, which means reducing the impact of rats. Why, back in the day, every ship had it's own cats!
yes this is srsface vote.
[X] You have subordinates for a reason (Diplomacy test)
Listen, these cats are obviously not pets, they're vermin control. As a viticuler, we need to maximize the lifespan of our perishables, which means reducing the impact of rats. Why, back in the day, every ship had it's own cats!
yes this is srsface vote.
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
.... I will accept catvote if it wins. But remember it is literally a vice that will detract from your work.
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Cat videos. If this were a hundred years later, cat videos.
- Location
- America
[X] Cigarettes
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
- Location
- Ottawa
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Whatever
[X] (Vice) Small animals
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
[X] (Vice) Small animals
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
Someone roll me 3d6 please for the results of this test.
[X] Polyapavlosk is a beacon of efficiency because of your office (Prowess test)
Someone roll me 3d6 please for the results of this test.
- Location
- America
Oof, that sucks.
C1P4: Aqua Marina
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
A small jar of what could be easily mistaken for biscuits sits in the bottom of the drawer, the top screwed on tight. You pull it out with a smile and shake it once. Then twice. On the third shake you hear the sudden skittering of claws on wooden floorboards. Before you can move, an orange and black blur has vaulted onto your desk and scattered pencils and papers everywhere. A disappointed cluck comes from the Stolrussian across the room but you couldn't care one bit. This is one of your favourite parts of the day.
"Marina!" You coo, scratching the chubby cat under the chin, "How is my big girl today?"
Marina, the mystery cat, had appeared outside your office window one day in the middle of a torrential storm. Soaked through, she had wound herself tightly around your legs before settling into your lap to dry off and drench your trousers. Now she lived here, your very own ships cat without the ship, and you dote on her at every opportunity. She curls up across your knees and you unscrew the jar, feeding her a small treat from your fingertips.
"One day the base commander will find out about the flea-bag and he will not be happy." Alexandrova muttered. The only thing that cut through her good-natured exterior was her dislike of the office cat. You had wondered more than once if she was simply upset that you showed Marina more affection than you had ever offered her.
"She's a rat catcher! We may as well give her a commission for all the work she does." You protest, smiling at the purring feline.
"There are no rats here, Mikhailova, and there never were. You love that beast like a child, it is unhealthy."
You shrug, little care given for the opinion of a foreign officer about a cat.
Your work is rote but interesting enough that you never really become bored. When you had first received your posting the wound to your pride had left you feeling bereft and it was some time before you had really applied yourself to the role. But, nonetheless you had eventually turned a corner and committed yourself to turning Polyapavlosk into the most efficient naval port in the Kingdom.
That was when you learned the reality of Vennish bureaucracy.
Every attempt to improve the order of things was met with nothing but polite indifference and disinterest at every level. Even when you pushed for the redistribution of warehouse assignments, simply to bring supplies for certain squadrons close to their piers, the question was not how would it help but instead who would have to do the work? Would it be the stevedores when they were navy supplies, naval crews with no training in dock work or her own administrative personnel who were not employed to haul cargo? The resulting debate lasted six months, produced no results and in fact only lead to a series of stress induced headaches that your doctor prescribed a mild sedative to prevent.
Thus you resigned yourself to a fate of doing your very best in a system that seemed perfectly designed to lead to heart palpitations in the quartermasters responsible for it, and chivvied your staff along in making what miniscule improvements to the operations you could along the way.
It was dull, but at least it kept you busy. And every so often you came across something so strange as to warrant an actual investigation. The opportunity to leave the office was a rarely given one, but it was no more warranted than when a shipment of supplies had been misdelivered and nonetheless signed for. This would need some looking into.
How do we proceed (pick any)?
[ ] Deliver the information to your superior officer (+1 stress)
[ ] Confront the officer who signed for the supplies (+1 stress)
[ ] Look into exactly what was mishipped and to who (+1 stress)
[ ] Send the Bo'sun to report the issues (If this is selected, none other can be, -1 stress)
We will be using the stress system from @open_sketchbook quests! Leytenant Mikhailova starts on 3 stress because of her posting. This can be reduced by engaging in vices and developing new ones! At the end of each chapter, a dice roll determines the effects! Over the stress amount, everything is fine. Under it, and you get some very bad no good results. Good luck!
"Marina!" You coo, scratching the chubby cat under the chin, "How is my big girl today?"
Marina, the mystery cat, had appeared outside your office window one day in the middle of a torrential storm. Soaked through, she had wound herself tightly around your legs before settling into your lap to dry off and drench your trousers. Now she lived here, your very own ships cat without the ship, and you dote on her at every opportunity. She curls up across your knees and you unscrew the jar, feeding her a small treat from your fingertips.
"One day the base commander will find out about the flea-bag and he will not be happy." Alexandrova muttered. The only thing that cut through her good-natured exterior was her dislike of the office cat. You had wondered more than once if she was simply upset that you showed Marina more affection than you had ever offered her.
"She's a rat catcher! We may as well give her a commission for all the work she does." You protest, smiling at the purring feline.
"There are no rats here, Mikhailova, and there never were. You love that beast like a child, it is unhealthy."
You shrug, little care given for the opinion of a foreign officer about a cat.
Your work is rote but interesting enough that you never really become bored. When you had first received your posting the wound to your pride had left you feeling bereft and it was some time before you had really applied yourself to the role. But, nonetheless you had eventually turned a corner and committed yourself to turning Polyapavlosk into the most efficient naval port in the Kingdom.
That was when you learned the reality of Vennish bureaucracy.
Every attempt to improve the order of things was met with nothing but polite indifference and disinterest at every level. Even when you pushed for the redistribution of warehouse assignments, simply to bring supplies for certain squadrons close to their piers, the question was not how would it help but instead who would have to do the work? Would it be the stevedores when they were navy supplies, naval crews with no training in dock work or her own administrative personnel who were not employed to haul cargo? The resulting debate lasted six months, produced no results and in fact only lead to a series of stress induced headaches that your doctor prescribed a mild sedative to prevent.
Thus you resigned yourself to a fate of doing your very best in a system that seemed perfectly designed to lead to heart palpitations in the quartermasters responsible for it, and chivvied your staff along in making what miniscule improvements to the operations you could along the way.
It was dull, but at least it kept you busy. And every so often you came across something so strange as to warrant an actual investigation. The opportunity to leave the office was a rarely given one, but it was no more warranted than when a shipment of supplies had been misdelivered and nonetheless signed for. This would need some looking into.
How do we proceed (pick any)?
[ ] Deliver the information to your superior officer (+1 stress)
[ ] Confront the officer who signed for the supplies (+1 stress)
[ ] Look into exactly what was mishipped and to who (+1 stress)
[ ] Send the Bo'sun to report the issues (If this is selected, none other can be, -1 stress)
We will be using the stress system from @open_sketchbook quests! Leytenant Mikhailova starts on 3 stress because of her posting. This can be reduced by engaging in vices and developing new ones! At the end of each chapter, a dice roll determines the effects! Over the stress amount, everything is fine. Under it, and you get some very bad no good results. Good luck!
- Location
- America
[X] Confront the officer who signed for the supplies (+1 stress)
[X] Look into exactly what was mishipped and to who (+1 stress)
[X] Look into exactly what was mishipped and to who (+1 stress)
