I watched the sun set over the Kaalakiota mountains at a quaint bistro on Caldari as I had some pepper filet mignon served with local wild mushrooms and potatoes fondant paired with a YC87 Domaine Gerelle-Avertain Grand Cru.
I am quite enjoying living on the same homeworld as my Caldari ancestors. To think less than a decade ago I was fighting over its skies to now enjoying its peace today as a resident.
Practiced Taistoiitsu. Well, as far as the space in my room allows me to.
This morning I once again failed to gain access to my old captain’s quarters. I took down the eviction notice ages ago, and I’ve tried to hack the access panel several times to no avail. The worst part is that I left about 50 million ISK and a copy of the Sort Dragon’s Guide to Diplomacy on the couch, but it looks like the landlords just trashed and gutted everything, so I’m probably not getting any of that back. They’ve probably spent all the money on spiced wine and faction ammunition by now anyway.
I went to the bar, picked up a random assortment of people, then we went back to my place and had a party.
Played around with a sub-warp racing sim and some poker.
Played a grand piano for the first time in…a long time.
Caught up on Episode 2 of The Rookies. Was pretty wizard to learn that there are other clans out there who maintain both the all-adults-serve policy and the cohort system.
Went to visit my aunt, as I found something that needs to be investigated. Aside from that just enjoying being in the Kingdom and not being worried about spaceships for once
I converted part of my hangar space into…I would say dojo, but I actually just placed some mats on the floor. I then tested my Taistoiitsu on a lend sparring drone. The result was satisfactory.
Planted a garden with five-year-old twins.
I reminded myself that moderation is indeed good.
I have been writing a few letters on behalf of Amnesty Interstellar, asking various authority figures to not execute death sentences, and to release some persons that in our view are being held on grounds that are unjust.
I have been doing this regularly for a few years now, and I’ve come to find that it is a surprisingly effective way to achieve results and save lives.
Life is precious Mr. Biko. The more lives that can be saved, the better.
Enraged by the fact that CONCORD doesn’t give a ship about capsuleers’ ancestry anymore (I literally had no clue), I headed to a sports bar hoping to blow off some steam. Luckily, local skyball team had lost miserably just a little while ago. So there was a bunch of quite angry fans drowning their grief near the premises. A few witty remarks about their favorite team and their ugly faces - and we’re already having a decent brawl. It was escalating rapidly and when the whole place was just about to turn completely into a temple of violence, a security unit has arrived. One of the guards was kind of good looking and I needed to calm myself down, so I claimed that I started the whole thing and insisted that he’d escort me to the security office while his collegues contact the paramedics.
When we entered the interrogation room, I locked the door and sealed the surveillance cam with a gum. Our following interaction didn’t involve any uniform but it did involve pulling rank from my side. Technically, even a valklear general of TLF wasn’t that guard’s direct superior, but he did agree that violation of the chain of command and potential family repercussions are better than getting raped.
On my way back to the quarters, I pondered briefly about adequacy of such violent and oppressive behaviour to non-capsuleers. Bought ice-cream for some kids from the slums.
Remembered it’s almost Victory Day, drank a glass of whiskey to field marshal Jebi’s health. Tried on my old Republic officer jacket in front of a mirror. Yep, looks badass and imposing. Drank to the old times. Grimaced around, parodying chief Harkon’s fiery speeches for at least half an hour. Drank to his health as well.
The following events are kinda hazy. I remember staggering around the docks with the remains of the bottle, swearing blood brotherhood with random dock workers, yelling some of the most obnoxious gallentean pop songs in a terribly false tone and confusing lyrics, making a scene at a hangar demanding that I’d be immediately given a shuttle rigged with explosives so I could ram it at the Emperor Family Academy at Amarr VIII. After that I got restrained by the guard (I think it was the same one from before) and hauled back to my quarters.
After snoozing a couple of hours and taking a cold shower I got relatively sober. I changed back into my casual outfit and gave the officer jacket to the laundry - it got a bit tainted after my recent tomfoolery. Then took a shuttle back to Auga IV. I returned to my residence and resumed experimenting with the strains of Harroule Dryweed that I grow there.
Today I had a boxing sparring match with Silas Moliko. First round it was 1-0 with technical defeat for Mr. Moliko using a hit to the area that we have agreed to avoid. Second round was terminated prematurely when it was revealed that Mr. Moliko was wearing a personal forcefield protection device.
Caught up on The Rookies up to Episode 6. Bit saddened by warrior clans being stereotyped as braggarts. Most of my clansmen embrace our life with grim resolve. Using force is necessary for survival, but not something that should be enjoyed like a small child using a magnifying glass on ants.
I made a cup of spiced tea and spent most of the morning reading a dusty book about wormholes.
On behalf of the Icecream Audit Office production team I wish to assure you that no stereotyping by the programming itself is intended.
Interviews of the participants are intended to read as their opinions and experiences, not necessary a view the show promotes as the only truth.
I had tea with my friend.
Edit: Also, I just realized, I met the person who started this thread.
Paperwork. Lots of it. One thing that people don’t really tell you is that if you try to run a chartered security force for a Federal district, there’s a lot of signatures to sign and influence to exert to keep things running elegantly enough per member state within said district, where that may apply. Which is okay, really; I would rather do that than not. I did some sewing, I practiced some movement, I went to the fashion circuit.
I also have an interview or two (as per the usual week) and… at least one baseliner party I have to go to. Maybe two depending on if the host can clear a space in good faith. Lots of things. You keep busy, you know?