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Lanny Ansar

Lessons learned:

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"Just another day for the Ordo..." Lanny thought idly to himself as he sat upon his Top Bunk in the barracks. He always enjoyed his bunk at the top, being that he always had a sort of paranoia when it came to future events and "What can happen next" scenarios. It made him feel safe in an awkward way, that if something bad were to happen, then at least the Grunt sleeping below him was to be crushed by a steel-frame matress rack, and not the other way around. He casually sat upon his bunk, feet dangling off the side of the bed, and sipped his To-Go mug of Coffee that he'd scavenged from Vesperia Lounge. It had a strange taste, but not specifically in a "Bad" way. It was just different. Like it was made by a goofy Space Drone who once floated around and filled Heretics full of Shot Glass-sized holes if they got too close. Not to mention that there always seemed to be flakes of DuraCoat paint in his coffee at all times. He didn't like Drones. Not a damn bit.

Nonetheless, he casually relaxed, spinning the cylinder of his Service Revolver between a sip of coffee every so-often, working the oil through the bearings and every moving part as he'd done throughout the rest of the weapon. He grinned to himself in a maniacal way whilst performing the act as well, which usually made the Numerii blink a few times at him and believe he may have been either REALLY entertained by what he did, or an absolute stark-raving lunatic.

Lanny got his coffee cup part-way to his face when the barracks shook. The lights flickered a bit and a few small knick-knacks from shelving fell down, but overall it didn't concern him at all. He took a few looks around as the fledgeling Ordo troops gathered their things and made a rush to investigate, as he remained on his bunk, continuing to enjoy his robo-brew coffee. The second attempt at a sip ended abruptly as the Barracks rocked violently this time, causing the lights to drop to a deep red for emergency power, and overall causing Lanny to crunch his To-go cup in his hand, spilling the contents upon his formal undershirt and the bunk beneath him.

That, was the final straw. Nobody gets between a half-crazy lanky-dude and his Coffee. NOBODY.

He tore his formal jacket from the corner post of the bunk alongside his revolver, and stormed his way out of the barracks. At that point he royally didn't care about WHO was attacking, how big the force was, or how many men have been lost so-far. All he really cared about was placing a .50 shell between the eyes of whichever Heretic Meatsack made him spill his coffee.

And thus he'd located it. Apparently a renegade faction known as 'Grim Troops', ones known for repeating the same tactic over-and-over again and achieving no results at all, had finally managed to scrape up enough to bring a Howitzer into the fold, which had consequently dropped a shell onto the side of the barracks wall. This made Lanny VERY, VERY unhappy. In fact, he could not have been any MORE grumpier than at that moment, as he slapped a full cylinder of Black-and-Mild-sized shells into his revolver, and dropped down into the fray, not even doing as much as a look-around of the area to see where to go. It was a bee-line attempt at best, but a Man without coffee does not care about what's in his way. All he cares about is Vengeance. Well, and Coffee.

Men dropped left and right. Ordo troops vaporizing into piles of glowing dust and fragments, Grim Troops gurgling as the top halves of their heads go cascading down their backs and onto the cobblestone tile that was Titan's streets, Explosives rocking men back from all around...And then there was Lanny; a determined NCO whose sole purpose of the fight was to walk up to the man who caused the loss of his beloved Java, and turn him into such a pulp that the only way he would be recognised is by the teeth that were embedded into his Howitzer. And then proceed to find another cup of Coffee. First thing's first though. Facemashing.

Lanny was not seen again for the remainder of the battle, until a small group of Grunts decided to take a trip to the Lounge. The men could not believe what they saw - It was Lanny, hunched over at a two-seater table alongside the body of what -appeared- to be the remains of a Grim Troop. The Trooper only had the bottom half of his head left, starting below the nose, and lanny was just STARING, with the utmost expression of grumpiness one could ever witness. Both bodies had Coffee, though, and Lanny looked to the Ordo grunts and shifted into a deligted smile. "Cheers!" he exclaimed, before slapping both coffee mugs together and proceeding to drain a cup into the head-cavity of the Grim Troop like it was some sort of demented Kool-Aid pitcher. Seeing the effect, Lanny slumped back over in his chair and returned to his Grumpyface, sipping his Coffee casually.

Moral of the Story: Do NOT Mess with an NCO and his Coffee Break.

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