*kesha songs playing softly in the distance*

This was probably already the worst day of Roderich’s entire life, and he hadn’t even woken up yet. Sitting up-right in the black velveteen chair by the window, something seemed to flick on, like a switch and he began to stir awake. His eyes slid open, and he gazed around the room in confusion, questioning where he was. He soon remembered he was still in Prussia’s hotel room, and that meant.. His eyes flickered to the bed, and thankfully they were still asleep.

He contemplated leaving the apartment before they awoke, and even moved to get up before he stopped himself. Eyes a little widened, he awkwardly sat still for a moment before he tipped his head forward, and took great notice of the fact that rainbow colored specks rained down in front of him. The origin? The top of his head.

The idea that it had something to do with the day before— He reached up to brush it from the top of his head, and a pile of it dumped onto the arm of the chair. His eyes only got wider. Doubting that the amount of glitter had just been resting atop his head for the past twenty four hours, he glanced up and immediately regretting it when his glasses were immediately coated with glitter. He practically leapt out of the chair, turned around and saw nothing.. but he was still being rained on.

Roderich never once expected to be so horrified at the sight of glitter trails on the floor leading up to his feet. "……" Rushing to the hotel bathroom, he faced himself in the mirror and then let an indescribable noise leave his throat as he saw the cloud hovering over his head, raining glitter into his burgundy, slightly messed hair.

His eyes flickered to the bed again, and he slammed the bathroom door closed, locking it swiftly out of worry he may have awoken the likely hungover other with his noise this.. very early Viennese morning.

Higher commands are not inherently bad

It strikes me that a lot of the support for pure Auftragstaktik (see here and here) is that a lot of people think that higher headquarters are inherently bad and unnecessary organizations. That if only we let the staff sergeants and captains run our wars everything would work out just fine. 

What a load of crap. Those staff sergeants and captains are as important to the war as any 3- or 4-star general, but wars can’t be fought that way. Higher commands (brigades to corps) serve important functions in determining the allocation of assets (based on warfighting priorities that should in turn be based on a campaign plan). 

As an extreme example, during the surge there were 20 brigades in Iraq who own battlespace. Who had the priority of assets? There were two brigades of aviation (designed to support 4 brigades each) - who gets support and who doesn’t? Do you think 20 colonels could get in a room and sort that out among themselves? Dive down a level if you think brigade commanders aren’t necessary or micromanage too much. Each brigade had 3 maneuver battalions (give or take) - would 60 lieutenant colonels be able to sort this out together and just agree on what they need?  We can keep doing this until we get to privates.

No, of course not. This is why we have higher commands - to allocate resources. And many of those resources come with constraints and restraints and they officer who owns them probably wants to ensure it’s being used wisely. And there’s nothing wrong with that. 

berceaudenosancetre started following you

parfumetvin started following you

masalladelmediterraneo started following you

auftragstaktik started following you

[Considering what was happening this week, the number of visitors at her door doesn’t surprise her. And there is also the slightly childish hope that one of them, at least, brought a gift along. But she greets you all with a cheerful smile and welcomes you in, out of the cold, with greetings and offers of warm drinks.] 

Ridiculous.

It was completely ridiculous. Gilbert was ridiculous, and he himself was ridiculous-looking rushing out of his apartment, trying to be very quiet about marching down the stairs so to not stir his potentially sleeping neighbors. It wasn’t that it was particularly late.. still a whiles away from midnight, but he wouldn’t take his chances on ruining his good relationship with them.

The moment he stepped out of the building, he managed to flag down a taxi. Already out of breath, he fumbled over the directions and then finally, as they began to move, he began to relax. This wasn’t an emergency.. Gilbert was just drunk. He was even in a hotel room; It wasn’t like he was out on the streets. But knowing Gilbert, they’d somehow injure themselves and— Why did he care? Or rather, how would he explain not caring when he got there?

He grumbled under breath, then reassured the driver that he was fine. It took him somewhere around twenty minutes to arrive, even without crowded streets (it was too late for any major traffic) and he wondered if they were even conscious by that point.

Regardless, he was going to check. Paying the driver and.. eyeing the expensive-looking hotel with a certain ‘I hope he didn’t use the money he stole from me to pay for this’ look, he hesitantly went inside. It was amazing, he didn’t get lost anymore than twice before he found his way to the correct room. By which point, it’d already been more than half an hour since he’d left.

.. He could still leave.

It’d be Gilbert’s fault if he just left him to break something expensive in a hotel room, and not have a cellphone (apparently) to call anyone if he didn’t have the money to pay for it. … Clenching jaw shut tightly, he opened the door anyways and looked inside.

Spending Valentines Day with someone Special~

He was accustomed to Valentines Day being like any other day. At 6:30 AM he’d be awakened by the sound of his alarm clock, shower, get dressed, make breakfast, then work. He’d almost accomplished these things before he remembered.. this Valentines Day was unlike the rest.

Firstly, there were animal hearts in his bed. How could he have figured this out? There was blood dripping onto the floor from the side of his mattress, something he’d noticed on his way out of the shower. Perplexed, he’d checked the interior and.. most certainly, there were animals organs in his bed, or at least he was rather sure.

Cow hearts? Pig hearts? He didn’t really care enough to contemplate for long. He burst out of his room (as gently as possible, considering the glass door), opened his mouth to speak and.. Gilbert was asleep. “…” One would assume when a person somehow accomplished such a large scale prank, they’d be too excited for the other’s response to sleep. Not Gilbert, he laid on the couch sleeping in the most innocent manner.

"……." But it was definitely him. He grimaced at the other, baring his teeth and then finally marching out of the bedroom, not attacking the other, but going to the kitchen instead.

If it was a grand reaction Gilbert wanted, he’d missed it, and he wouldn’t get the the joy of waking up to it either. With a heavy sigh he turned on the coffee maker and resumed having a normal day. 

He glanced over his shoulder while he waited, eyeing the still resting Gilbert with a glare they weren’t conscious to be wary of. He hadn’t the displeasure of living with the male in years, but the sight of them laid out stupidly on the couch was disturbingly familiar. There were many occasions where the other napped on the couch at Ludwig’s, comfortable enough being with his sibling to let his guard down. It was a miracle he hadn’t done something to the defenseless shit any of those times.

He was contemplating it now, staring at the other intently from across the apartment in the kitchen as they slept. It wouldn’t be uncalled for at this point if he tried to drown them with a bottle of water, which reminded him, he needed to call someone for a new mattress.

….

image

Standing just outside the apartment, he didn’t have to strain to hear the shouting from inside. It echoed out clearly to him, and probably to the neighbors one floor below if they were home at that moment. Roderich didn’t even care if they overheard, not after reading the texts that followed it.

The deafening silence that had fallen between them with that one text message had admittedly frightened him. The thought of being ignored was strangely more upsetting that the thought of receiving a hateful or mocking reply.

He had been contemplating just leaving, fleeing from the apartment again before he’d even stepped in but the sound of the others voice had locked him in place. Uncontrollably smiling at the sea of text messages which followed it, he wondered if he looked stupid swelling up with relief as he slid down the wall beside the door and crouched down to the floor.

There’d been a knock against the floor following them, and it didn’t take long before he realized that it was probably Gilbert’s phone. Which meant he wouldn’t notice if Roderich replied back… .. so he called him instead. “…~”

auftragstaktik hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet:

“‘Darling’……….. that sounds disgusting coming from you. Stop it. “

image

"Everything sounds disgusting coming from you and I still haven’t been able to convince you to stop talking, so until we find a middle ground, no.

But, getting to the point: an attractive young woman wanted to speak with you and was too shy to approach you herself, so she came to me instead.

I’m just here to point you in the right direction.”

auftragstaktik hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet:

"Here, look, I’ll apologize , I’m sorry you let me inside. I didn’t mean to accept your gracious offer for breakfast."

image

"I don’t think neglecting to lock one of my windows constitutes as letting you inside.”

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