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Topics - Miranda Carlstedt-Gaus

Pages: [1]
1
Utopia District / Just Dropping In! [Farran]
« on: May 03, 2020, 09:02:35 PM »
Early Summer 847
Central Utopia

Miranda slotted the last of her heavy assessment record files onto the shelf behind her new desk. Well, not precisely new -- it was the one she occupied most often in their biennial rotation of the Training Corps when they came to Utopia. She put her hands on her hips and let out a huff of satisfaction, admiring her now fully-unpacked and organized workspace in the communal office. As she took her glasses off to clean them and glanced around the room she realized that she was alone. Not that it surprised her. Most of the other instructors had only gradually unpacked, favoring an early start to the time off they had now that they and the cadets had finished the long trip here.

Just means you'll have less to do in the morning, Miranda told herself.

As usual she'd been so fixated on filling whatever time she had with work that she couldn't even remember where the others had planned on going, if anywhere. Judging by the light coming through the windows it was likely pitching toward late afternoon. The sunbeams alighted on the framed pictures of herself with her husband and Ruth, a child at the time, and the one of Ruth with Rolf around the same age. She missed them deeply, but missing Rolf had its own flavor -- what was he up to now with his carers, with her so far away? She breathed deep. "That'll do you no good," she muttered and put her glasses back on.

She'd done everything she could in here to distract herself and now found that she had dreaded free time and no idea how to fill it. A glance down at herself showed her the streaks of dust on her uniform. A change of clothes first, maybe, then a wander around town. It'd been a while since she'd been this far north, after all.

As she grabbed her uniform jacket and satchel -- still stuffed with the provisions for the ride up here -- she suddenly realized what could fill the time. She smiled to herself. "I can think of someone else I should check on. That counts as time off, surely." She headed downstairs to look up the address with the secretary.

2
Training Corps Barracks and Grounds
December, Pre-845

Miranda was never good at afternoons off. She had decided to be kind to her batch of cadets today and ended class about twenty minutes early on account of the bitter temperatures; while it had been relatively clear the wind was biting and clouds on the horizon told of more snow tonight, only a couple of hours away. After sending her assistant home too, she'd retreated to the little shed behind the classroom that she'd commandeered and turned into something resembling an office -- the Instructors' shared office was often too crowded and noisy for her liking. There was just enough room in here for a fold-down board under the tiny, dirty window that served as a small desk, a stool, and boxes of dated training manuals and rusting gun parts waiting to be sent away for refurbishment or scrap.

Next thing will be a portable stove, Miranda thought as she rubbed her hands in their fingerless gloves. Once these boxes are cleared out, anyway. She gave the room a despairing glance as she popped another dried strawberry into her mouth from the paper bag on the desk.

She was about to return to her latest report to Pixis when a date on it caught her eye, and she remembered one of the cadets had had a birthday that day. She grabbed a small notebook from her uniform jacket pocket, turned to that month's page, and jotted the name and day down before she forgot.

A quick flick through other pages for that quarter had her smiling. It was one of her favorite things to do to reward her cadets -- surprise them with group birthday cakes, expensive though they were. Some of them had never had cake before in their life and it pleased her to see their faces light up. Might need two cakes for at this rate. The one from Gulliver's went over well last quarter so maybe --

Footsteps crunching through snow and, shortly, loud sniffing outside broke Miranda's train of thought. She put her pen down and the notebook away, craning her neck to see out the window. She frowned -- Michelle Whitaker was walking by, wiping at her eyes.

Miranda slipped off her perch and took the one step needed to reach the door, pulled it open. Though she normally addressed her cadets by surname, there was no one else around and this seemed to warrant an exception. "Michelle? What's wrong?"

3


....Undated, "If the Shoe...Flies"
....OPEN
....with Commander Pixis and his granddaughter Brigita [NPC]


Pre-845

....December, "Snowy Tears and Small Kindnesses"
....with Michelle



845

Spring
....Early May, Initiation Celebration Event. "Days Gone By"
....OPEN
....with her grandson Rolf (NPC) and other initiation attendees

Winter
....Early November, "Live Ammunition"
....OPEN
....with the 104th Cadet Corps



846
None yet



847

Summer
....Early, "Just Dropping In!"
....with Farran

....July, "One shot is all it takes"
....with Sylvia

4
IC / [EVENT] Days Gone By [OPEN]
« on: March 07, 2020, 08:21:08 PM »
Early May, 845
Training Corps Barracks and Grounds

[Initiation Celebration Event]

"Your favorite, Miss Miranda!"

Miranda grinned widely as she accepted the small tin cup of blackberry cordial; the lights from Mr Young's stall glimmered on its inky surface. "Thank you, Herschel," she said. She winked at him for being addressed as 'Miss', a long-running but harmless flirt from the older man.

"Can I have some?" asked her grandson Rolf, beside her.

She could smell the potency of the cordial already and it wasn't even halfway to her mouth. "No indeed," she said.

"Maybe in another eight years, eh?" said Mr Young. "How about something just for you?" he suggested, and shortly reached to the shelves behind him. He procured a thin paper-wrapped strip and passed it over the counter to Rolf, smirking behind his bushy mustache. "Try it."

Rolf examined the strip of reddish-brown in his hand, sniffed it. "Apples?"

"And raspberries. Dried into something like leather, eh? It's sweet, promise."

While Rolf took a tentative bite Miranda reached into her pocket for her coin purse. "A good harvest last fall, then?" She eyed all the fruit-related treats and sundries at the stall.

Mr Young refused the coin she offered.

"You spoil him," Miranda chided.

He shrugged happily and then answered her earlier question. "A good'un, yes. Your cordial's gone quick but made sure to save some for ya." He held out the paper bag containing the small bottle of it she'd purchased earlier.

"I can count on you. This'll see me through to another Initiation Celebration I'm sure," she chuckled and took it. Although she hadn't needed the sample to begin with, having been a regular customer of Young's Press for many years, she knocked back the cordial in her hand and handed the cup back to him. It wasn't potent, exactly, but for someone like her that rarely drank it was enough to put some warmth in her already-rosy cheeks. The heavy blackberry taste settled pleasantly on her tongue while the rosemary notes lingered in her nose. "Just don't go selling it to all these minors, now." She took Rolf's hand and began to move away.

"Don'tcha worry, Miss Miranda. Been fooled too many times. No more!" He waved them off, "Y'enjoy your evening now, and stop by before you leave!"

"Say thank you," she instructed Rolf and he echoed her over his shoulder.

The two of them moved gently through the crowds: fledgling cadets dripping with nervous and excited energy, clusters of her fellow instructors, a few soldiers here and there come to scout already, all hemmed in by various vendor stalls. It was a warm spring evening edging toward Rolf's usual bedtime, but she liked to use the opportunity to spend time with him while she wasn't strictly-speaking on the clock.

These celebrations -- of which she'd been to a few by now -- were always bittersweet for her, especially when she brought Rolf. She was always eager to observe the new intake as well as catch up with any of her past students, but it always served as a reminder that it was only four more years until Rolf would technically be old enough to join the cadets himself. It prodded at the ache of his mother's absence, and as Miranda looked at all the jackets that matched her own she prayed that not only would they be kept safe, but that a penultimate victory might keep Rolf safe, too.

5
Training Corps Barracks & Grounds / [OPEN] Live Ammunition [OPEN]
« on: January 22, 2020, 09:59:31 PM »
Early November 845
South Field of the Training Barracks and Grounds

It was her favorite time of year -- the brisk wind and brilliant sunshine illuminating autumn colors aside, November was traditionally the point where Miranda introduced the new batch of cadets to live ammunition for the first time. She couldn't help but smile to herself.

Miranda stood with folded arms on the thick but short plank wall that railed the central canon plateau and looked out over South Field, one of the largest cordoned-off areas of cleared land in the Training Grounds. It took a fifteen-minute horse ride to get here from the barracks, half an hour if you were in a wagon, and was hemmed in by great swathes of gold, rust, and crimson that marked the other Runs -- shadier courses for ODM practice and horsemanship. Out in the field itself were faint, shallow trenches and large divots at equal intervals like ripples radiating from the plateau, which were used for target practice for the cannon. Two of those cannon flanked Miranda -- polished sentinels familiar to her from decades ago. While the plateau shelf on which she stood was nowhere near the height of the Walls -- the drop below her was a good twenty meters -- it was easy to be taken back to the old days in the Garrison, especially with the sharp wind running its fingers through her cropped hair.

I used to look out from the Wall like this, waiting for Ruth to come back, she thought with a pang of sadness. I suppose I'll always be looking.

Miranda turned, careful but unafraid, on her heel to look behind her at the rest of the plateau. Past the globular cannonball pyramids and short railtrack, the rest of her domain included a variable target range: open-sided shacks on her right, under which the cadets would stand; and on her left, normally there would be wood and straw painted targets beginning at the scrubby treeline and gradually moving inward, though this time they were off to one side. While this was not her usual shooting range -- that one was much closer to the barracks -- she nonetheless took pride in its upkeep, even if they didn't use it nearly as frequently. Yesterday her assistants had not only finished the last of the clean-up and painting, but brought the main attraction:

Where the usual targets would have been on the range, interspersed there instead were dozens of pumpkins.

Though they varied in size, color, and shape, they all had two things in common -- one, that they had all arrived in the same cartload from Commander Pixis a couple of days ago, and two, that they were all in various stages of rot. She had not asked questions, only pocketed the short note that had quickly changed her exasperated confusion to amusement. She wasn't one to waste an opportunity, after all.

Rumbling and crackling of wheels on gravel drew Miranda's attention right, where the access road wove out of the trees into the clearing. Her horse and those of her assistants tethered nearby raised their heads in interest. Shortly two wagons came into view, filled with curious faces. A crow cawed irritably and hopped, then flapped out of the road into the trees.

Miranda smiled. She'd had these cadets for maybe a month now -- she refused to let children handle firearms, loaded or not, until they adequately grasped the basic theory and safety aspects and were disciplined enough in other military habits -- and had been hard on them, as was her tendency. However, it was time to shift tactics, and use something as fun and strangely alarming as exploding something fleshy to serve as a memorable exercise in ballistics. She stayed standing in the blazing sun, her back to the field, and tried to hide her eagerness to begin.

The wagons drew to a halt and the chalky dust from their wheels blew away, and the cadets began disembarking. Miranda called out to them, "To me, please. We have limited daylight this time of year -- let's not waste it. I have something special for you today."



(OOC Note: Do not feel in any way obligated to match the length of this introductory post! Also, though there is no posting order, please try to let one or two others post after your most recent reply before you post again!)

6
Training Corps / Moving Objects Need Tough Love (Miranda's Plotter)
« on: January 01, 2020, 02:27:18 AM »


Miranda "Tough-Love" Carlstedt-Gaus
14th February 793 (52 in 845) | INSTRUCTOR OF BALLISTICS AND FIREARMS | Based in Wall Rose | Trost Native
Empathetic | Realistic | Mischievous | Workaholic | "Work hard, play hard." 

FRIENDS

Miranda makes friends easily and genuinely, even if part of her is near-paralysed with fear at the prospect of anyone getting truly close, only to lose them. She admires anyone who shares her values of hard work and altruism, and has fully committed to being a teacher in all senses of the word -- anyone who believes in other people as optimistically as she does will easily earn her friendship. The real test will be getting her to actually hang out outside of the office, or not be preoccupied with her grandson -- most of her friends will likely be coworkers or those she sees regularly in the course of her duties, as her free time is limited.

ROMANCE

As with friends, Miranda has a full and open heart but tries very hard to keep people just outside the innermost circle, as losing someone else would devastate her beyond repair. She is a widow and misses her husband, Bradlen, dearly but is open to romance -- it may begin as friendship. She is however crippled by grief over her husband and daughter, which has led her to become quite the workaholic and as such, would likely need more time than others to draw her attention and keep it. She is the primary (though not only) caregiver of her eight-year-old grandson, Rolf, and will always put his needs above her own. As an aside, she is considered rather pretty and her wit and mischief are her calling cards.

ENEMIES

It's hard not to respect if not admire and love Miranda, but she's unafraid to make enemies and you'll likely get a spot on her bad list if you deliberately waste your potential or sabotage others; she'll likely only get confrontational with those that threaten 'her' cadets in any way. She is also sensitive to the (barely-known) fact that her daughter conceived Rolf out of wedlock and did not reveal the name of the father, therefore if Ruth is insulted Miranda will likely lose her cool. Additionally, she wants to believe that she can both raise Rolf and work full-time -- anyone who questions this will be preying on a deep-rooted insecurity that may receive mixed results.

POTENTIAL PLOTS

- As Instructor of Ballistics and Firearms and the fact that she really shines as a teacher with your best interests at heart, cadet interactions are more than welcome! Anyone in need of guidance, really -- even if they resist!
- Her talents lie in mathematics, physical chemistry, and physics. She's a quick-thinker. Any situation where this could be of use is an easy way in, cadet or fellow Instructor/soldier regardless.
- She's going to need help raising Rolf when she can't be at home!
- Are there any Trost neighbors out there that either support or condemn her wanting to turn a much-coveted vacant corner lot into an infirmary or orphanage? Is she taking too long to save up, when the space could be used now?
- Her mischief extends to good-natured ribbing and the occasional harmless prank. Any partners in crime or victims?
- Someone get her out of the office, seriously.
- She is physically weaker than most and would likely need help with strength-related tasks.

7
Training Corps / Miranda Carlstedt-Gaus
« on: December 31, 2019, 09:16:22 PM »



NAME: Miranda Carlstedt-Gaus
NICKNAMES (IF ANY): (Miranda) "Tough-Love" (Carlstedt Gaus)
DATE OF BIRTH AND AGE (AS OF YEAR 845): 14th February 793 (52 in 845)
PLACE OF BIRTH: Trost
GENDER: Female    
MEMBER GROUP: Instructors (Trainee Corps)
FACE CLAIM: Suyin Beifong (The Legend of Korra)


APPEARANCE: Miranda has gray-streaked dark brown, chin-length, slightly wavy hair and hazel eyes; her creamy skin is commonly remarked on to be her best feature, and she tries to make efforts to keep it that way. When she smiles, the apples of her cheeks are very prominent. She is of petite, slim build and stands at 5'4. Miranda wears silver-rimmed reading glasses and, underneath her uniform jacket, Mandarin-collared blouses in neutral colors.

PERSONALITY: ESFP. Miranda has developed a reputation for being nurturing but tough, both as a friend/coworker and as a mentor -- she is both feared/respected and loved for demanding high standards. She has devoted her life to seeking out the potential in others and how to best apply them to the larger cause, making her altruistic and responsible to nearly a fault. Much of this is overcompensation for what she believes are deeply-ingrained flaws/weaknesses of her own, and for her helplessness in the face of the loss of her husband and daughter. However, as serious and realistic as she can be in the appropriate situations her knack for empathy is not above a mischievous streak, and she would call herself an optimist.


STRENGTHS:

- Has mastered the art of tough love: knows when to nurture and when to discipline and easily commands deep respect.
- Realistic, but optimistic.
- Great at teaching in general.
- Mathematically-inclined, able to make precise and quick calculations on the fly, with a  strong grasp additionally of physics and physical chemistry.
- Proficient at firearms and sharpshooting.


WEAKNESSES:

- Sometimes too empathetic/sentimental, easily swept-up in her emotions (especially when it comes to 'her' cadets).
- Still crippled by grief over the loss of her daughter.
- Can be meddlesome; her tendency toward philanthropy in particular can sometimes go too far / be perceived as patronizing.
- Workaholic.
- Not the strongest, physically.
- Somewhat gullible until she's known a person for a while.


ASPIRATIONS: To do anything she can to ensure a safe, happy future for her grandson. To prepare cadets as best she can to reduce the chances of loss of life, and in general contribute to a cadre of high-quality graduates to better support military efforts. She also has smaller philanthropic goals, such as opening an infirmary or orphanage.

FEARS: Not being able to work; losing her grandson or not being able to provide a decent life for him; failing her responsibilities.

HISTORY:

Miranda is one of the daughters of Soren Hume and Maria Carlstedt (the other daughter being Rose), and was close to her mother in particular to the point that when she married, she kept her maiden name. Her husband of twenty-four years and fellow graduate, Bradlen Gaus, was killed in 840 while defending Wall Maria at Shiganshina as part of standard duties; she was heartbroken and never remarried, and poured much of her time into her own duties and helping her daughter, Ruth, raise her own son Rolf in the absence of his father.

She was able to retire from active duty around this time and became Instructor of Ballistics and Firearms, a subject to which she was well-suited, and embraced a passion for teaching. Any cadet that comes through her classes by default has Miranda as an additional parent, and becomes subject to an immense amount of personal investment. Miranda is also notable as being willing to guide individuals toward appropriate specializations, even non-military ones. Although life would be kind to her for a while, Ruth was unfortunately killed while out on expedition with the Scouting Legion in 843. Miranda was devastated by Ruth's loss, and threw herself both into her work and into raising Rolf -- by this time six years old. Her experience with sending her daughter to war and then losing her has informed her behavior to 'her' cadets and brought out her mother's steely constitution.

Currently, she lives with Rolf (now eight in 845) on Weaver Street in Trost a few houses down from her childhood home, in the top terrace apartment of a converted bank occupied by five other families; despite pressure from the community to hand the corner lot over to those in need, she is saving her money to eventually build an infirmary or orphanage there.



YOUR ALIAS: HiddenBaroness
AGE: 32
TIMEZONE: Central US


Pages: [1]

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