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Messages - Maric Talburn

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Maric grabbed stuff and left the men in peace. They seemed to be old friends, so he'd make it a point give them space and get himself clean. The Sergeant parted ways with the men in the team room. The trip o to the wash room wasn't too pain staking. He could feel thay subtle dull ache. He amd the Captain had a good work out and put a decent amount of rounds downrwnge. He felt good, and a good shower would put him at ease.

Within a matter of minutes he had finished up, changing back into an OCP uniform, adjusting his skill badges and placing his assignment patch and tabs in order before getting his top on. Maric yawned, rubbing his shoulders absently before making his way back into the team room, using a towel to dry his face and head in transit down the hall. Soon he had returned, moving to his locker and getting his kit situated once more.

<Team Room, ODA 3333 - 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne) Headquarters, Fort Bragg>

Sergeant Talburn, effectionately dubbed 'Cherry' walked back into the team room, lot in his left hand, and helmet in his right. The young man was drenched in sweat. He looked around the rom, seeing a few newer bodies. Upon moving deeper into the room he returned his kit to the assigned locker. He made the command decision to hop in the shower and get clean.

The stress  shoot followed by the quick ruck-run to the mout sure. From there he and Captain Powers cleared a compound with three buildings, one of which was multi storied. The two man drills were a tad intense and Maric felt like all of the hydration had been sucked from his body given the session. But it was his run and he sure as hell made it a smoker. He wondered what the Captain wqs feelin, or would be feeling as he turned to see if the man followed him in.

<Team Room, ODA 3333 - 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne) Headquarters, Fort Bragg>

Pushing open the indicated door, Scott stepped into what could have been a high school classroom at any high school across the United States - the only give away that it wasn't, was the fact that Scott knew where he was. Headquarters 3rd SFG(A), standing in the doorway Scott took in the room, the wall directly across from the door was covered in both old school cork boards with maps and intel from its last occupants as well as high def tv's for the new age materials. Directly to his right were lockers, large enough to hold the majority if not all of their personal TA-50 gear and then some, directly adjacent to the lockers on the wall at the front of the room were two doors. Shower room and on the opposite side, what would function as Scott's office and that of his team Warrant Officer and team Sergeant. The rest of the team would take a desk/table that filled the remaining space in the room.

Heading for his 'office' Scott stepped in and placed his bags on the ground next to the metal desk and settled into the ancient metal desk chair and broke out his tough book computer, he'd peruse the files of his team before they all arrived over the next couple of days.

Maric rubbed the back of his neck. He carried a duffle, housing his SFLCS and the according gear. His rig and carrier were both already set up from his previous dealings. Currently he wasn't aure of the ODA' s current SOP or of their TACSOP differed from the previous elements of 3rd group that he'd been with. Upon opening the door, Maric stepped in, clad in OCP's, baret folded and looped under his belt. He dropped the bag, spying some life in the room.

Considering where it was, the young Sergeant assumed it was either Top, a Chief, or their CO. So either way he had to be crisp. Upon reaching the officer he knocked on the door frame. "Sir?" He stood in the brace, waiting to gain the man's  attention before offering a Salute. "Sergeant Maric Talburn, sir. Assigned to ODA 3333...i'm I'm the correct place aren't I?"

There was no doubt in Maric's mind. He knew exactly where he was, but it always paid to be safe rather than sorry, he had learned that times over. And it would show, his sleeve was slick and lacked a deployment patch, but the assignment side houses a ranger tab and he had a number of qualification badges. If nothing else, the young man knew how to Army.

The sound of sure and confident footfalls made its way to Scott's ears, someone was crossing the team room towards the office. Slightly closing the lid on his tough book he looked towards the doorway as a young, almost baby faced Sergeant filled the open space. Pushing back his chair Scott stood and returned the salute, "You would be correct Sergeant Talburn." He replied, stepping around his desk and crossing the short distance to Talburn, extending his hand. "Captain Powers, team leader. Nice to meet you."

Maric nodded assuring as he took the man's hand to deliver a firm shake. "Awesome." He figured he could take the time to dive into a quick question. "I take it I'm the first in... I've got my gear with me to have it stored. Are there any differences to kit set up that I need to shake out now or is it shooters preference on this one?" He couldn't help but notice the Ranger Scroll on his right shoulder and grinned. That part was quite reassuring, though anything on the right shoulder was better than nothing at all.

"You'd be correct on that account as well, you are the first, the rest of the team should be in within the next 48 hours or so." He motioned back towards the main area of the team room, "Pick a locker and store your gear, as for set up, shooters preference on 90% of your set up, we'll standardize IFAC/CTTT locations as well as commo. Fair?"

"Completely, that's what I've  been used to so far sir." He made his way back into team room to grab his bag. He moved to a locker and unzipped it, pulling his chest rog out first and hanging it, followed by his plate carrier and propped it up at the back. Next came his OpsCore helmet and it's surefire suite which he mounted up in the locker as well. The rest was odds and ends, headlamp, kneepads, gloves, etc. "If you don't mind me asking sir, what are the operational teams like? Deployment side I mean."

"We'll be figuring that out together Sergeant, I've deployed with the regiment, never as a Green Beret. So it'll be a steep learning curve, but nothing we can't handle." Scott replied leaning up against the conference table in the room, watching as the Sergeant secured his gear, "Talburn, you were an 18X correct?"

No shit? Maric glanced back at the man once he had finished storing his trash. "Yeah roger sir. That rare case of coming off the street and actually getting selected after Q. It was crazy honestly, a buddy of mine tan through with me. They told him to go get a deployment and come back." Maric let out a low whistle. "I don't know what I did but here I am."

"Lucky you, I enlisted trying to get an X-ray, ended up an 11 Charlie and in the Regiment before I commissioned, ended up back there after I got my butter bar." Scott replied with a chuckle, part of him was worried, concerned even that Talburn hadn't seen an OCONUS operation or combat deployment. But if he managed to make it through Selection and Q-course as an X-Ray it meant he was something special, and that was enough for Scott - they'd just have to have his back when it came time to jump.

"Well sir, word is that Regiment time is priceless and highly valued across the army regardless of where you end up. It was really hard choosing between the 18X and option 40 contracts. I just figured I could do more in this place. I don't know, I'm still wet behind the ears so we'll see." He wasn't too worried about the learning curve. Most team guys he met were super squared away and quick to offer advice l, conduct hip-pocket training on the fly...basically doing their job. So Maric assumed he'd be in good company. "Plus, ones never done learning."

"You'd be correct on that account Talburn, never stop learning, the minute you do you're dead. And that is just plain unacceptable, and too much paperwork that I don't want to do." He chuckled, "So 18X, and now an 18B - what's your niche, long range, close in?"

"Damn right. And no one enjoys paperwork," he grinned. The Captains next question caused Magic to settle into his thoughts. "Honestly a bit of a Jack jack of all trades sir. I favor the SCAR-H as a battle rifle, but I've got SDM  and some advanced marksmanship courses. But I can rock a SAW or forry-mike like any grunt. I'm not the next Reaper or anything but I can sling some lead down range and hit the mark... I'm a Bravo sir, you just tell me what you need."

"Good that's what I wanted to hear," Looking over Talburn's shoulder he looked into the kids locker, "Grab your gear, we're gonna hit the range, let's see how good of a Bravo you are?"

"Damn, and here I thought you were going to bore me with some pep-speech."Maric grinned as he grabbed his plate carrier and sling it on. He fastened the the plate carrier to his body and picked up his helmet. "Now you're speaking my language."

"Wasn't how I was raised in the Regiment, nor was that the style I adopted when I commissioned. Maybe if I become a General officer, sure, but till then - I'll live by K.I.S.S. Sergeant." Pushing himself off the desk he'd been leaning against he moved towards his office to grab his own gear, "Sergeant, you've gotta remember I learned to speak grunt a long time ago!" He intoned over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah of course. But you know it's a perishable skill I  land nav or some shit." Maric made subtle adjustments to his kit to ensure it's for was how he liked it and stood by near the door. He was a partial case of why carry it when you can wear it that much easier.

Scott didn't respond, instead he cracked open his locker and quickly dropped his plate carrier over his head and wrapped his battle belt around his waist. Grabbing his Ops Core helmet he walked back into the team room proper, "What's our game today Sergeant, what's the drill, your call."

"Hop scotch sir. Classic stress shoot mixed in with buddy team IMT' s. Clear through the engagement and call the LOA. Then we can probably march it straight to one of the MOUT sites near AO  patriot. They've got a church building there, an old schoolhouse. And a four story complex. It's small but will still dust your ass if you don't handle it right. Thoughts?"

"Sounds like a plan to me, you bring your weapon or do we need to draw from the armory?" Scott inquired, rolling up the sleeves on his ACUs.

"I haven't drawn yet. Should probably go do that before we start making all of these plans. What's  the ammo situation like up here in the ODA world, gotta call FSC or do we have free reign?"

"As long as you're not gonna ask the S4 for any Whilly Pete, we'll be just peachy. Once the team's all here, we do have access to a small armory we can secure our weapons in, in the team AO." Scott added as he walked towards the stairs down towards the first floor. "I'll get with S1 and grab a G-ride while you coordinate weapons and class five."

"Damn, there goes all my fun. Guess i'll find another way to tac onto the already mandatory safety briefs." Maric couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Rog. Assuming I pick all the poison, what happens if you don't like my choice in jiggy-blasters?"

"Here I'll make it easy for you then Glock 19 and a Mk.18 CQBR, trust you can get that without too much hassle?"

"Hey I'm just making sure that you don't complain when I come out with Mk48's." Now of course he had to make this fun and talk shit. "Okay, small package for the old man, don't want you blowing out your knees. I know all those jumps were hard on your," Maric grinned almost devilishly as he locked into the game.

Scott face palmed and walked away, heading for the S1 offices, "Keep it up Cherry..." Pausing mid step he turned and looked at the Weapons Sergeant, "You know what, while I'm down with S1 I'm having them do an official name change."

"Woah...wait...Cherry? Are you serious?" Maric blinked, unsure of this was a bluff or not. "Like this is...for life. I mean, these are hard to know that right?"

"Yup. Uh huh, I know." Scott replied with a shark like grin, "Did it to yourself Sergeant Cherry!"

"Fuuuuuuck," he groaned and threw his head back. "This is some shit," he muttered as he went off to grab toys and get rounds organized and cleared. He wasn't sure who the RSO would be. Orif they'd have a safety. Hell Help this was a whole new world, an ODA was just different.


<IMT Range, Ft Bragg N. Carolina>

Scott tapped the loaded magazine against the palm of his hand, "Alright Cherry, walk me through your CONOP."

Maric let out a slow yet aggravated sigh. "Gooooood dammit." He groaned as he motioned to the dirt turnout from the hardball road leading into the range. "Starting points at the fence. Dead sprint until you hit the first come, twenty five burpies. Upon completion, I'm your feet sprint to the next cone, farmer carry those eighty pound ammo cans to the next come. From there fifty air squats. Upon completion you load your first magazine, target will appear down range and we go hot. You'll hit your first barricade, utilising a firing position that makes sense for your cover or concealment until you or I get into place. We'll start bounding, clear through the engagement. We'll do personal LACE, and then follow on mission. Jog down the firebreak about five hundred meters and into the mout site. Targets are already set. Conditions are...well a luxury. targets left standing and if we have to, we'll perform a spendex at the end of the exercise. Comments, questions, or concerns sir?" Maric visually inspected his twenty round 7.62 magazine before sliding it into one of his pouches.

"None, let's blow through this, you'd better beat me Cherry. Don't want to be a Cherry and shown up by an old man with bad knees. Right?" Scott chuckled and secured his helmet, clicking the chin strap together. "Go?"

Maric secured his dark lenses eye pro, and placed his helmet atop his head.  "Yeah you got jokes," he muttered as he secured his Mk17. Maric glanced down at his watch as they stood near the start point. "Ten seconds...Five, four, three, two, one...go." With that Maric broke into a sprint, the first come being two hundred meters at a straight shot.

Digging his feet in Scott pushed off, he wasn't a sprinter, he ran marathons for crying out loud. But he did his best to keep up with Talburn, which wasn't exactly an easy feat, the Sergeant was starting to his lead steps ahead of Scott. Hitting the cone, Scott dropped into the first of 25 burpies. He hated burpies, with a passion.

Talburn grunted as he knocked out his last five burpies. They were a pain in the ass even without all of the weight on, but this was suppose to be a smoke fest. Made him wonder if he should've up'ed the number. Then again the aim was only to elevate the heart rate, not make it explode so... After completing the last burpie Maric sprang up and ran for the next cone two hundred meters away. This was purely power and resistance, a light mixture of endurance but it was going. To suck either way by the time they reached the end.

Scott was 7 behind Talburn as the Sergeant sprinted off for the second cone 200 meters away, cursing himself he knocked out his final burpies - a pain in the ass all the way around, he wondered if it was payback for the nickname he'd just slapped him with. Oh well didn't matter at that point, he couldn't quit. Pushing himself up from his last one he sprinted off for Talburn's position, who was already hauling his ammo cans to the third cone. "Damn kids!" He shouted after Talburn.

"The fire of youth sir," Maric laughed as he trotted the next two hundred meters. Upon reaching the end he curled the cans into his chest and started his air squats. It didn't take long for that  familiar burn to settle into his thighs and his calves grow heavy. He let out a sharp breath, keeping his form as best he could while front squatting the ammo cans, kit, water weight, and weapons system. The young Sergeant had to take a breather once he hit thirty five, resting in the up position as he caught his breath for a moment.

(Joint post between Scott and Maric)

Personnel Files / Talburn, Maric
« on: May 03, 2017, 04:26:15 PM »
Played By: Ghost0109



    Full Name:Maric Talburn

    Age/ Birthday: 1991/09/09

   Nationality:Black American

    Rank, Title or Position:Sergeant, 18B Weapons Sergeant ODA 3333, Charlie Company (Crisis Response Force (CRF)), 3rd Battalion, 3rd Special Forces Group (Airborne), USASFC

    Height: 5'9

   Build:Lean runners build

    Related Skills:
Weapons proficiency (foreign and domestic  builds)
Land Nav, Fluent (enough) in  French

   Unrelated Skills:
Avid runner, bottomless pit (always hungry)

Air Assault
Ranger School


    Maric stands at 5'9, hair is faded on the sides while the top holds a close crop of 2 inch thick curled hair. He's muscular but not overly so. Being athletic and staying in shape,

  Easy company to keep around, great conversationist, and has a compelling charisma about him. Maric is what some could consider a highlight around his fellow Green Berets. While he can be cocky at times he’s a caring person, constantly putting those around him first. However when he’s switched on he’s a calculating machine, nothing but hard strategy and a mass of silver bullets for the poor dumb Bayard on the other end of his muzzle…or facing his anyone in his ODA for that matter.

To those outside of his circle Maric can be seen as just a fairly average guu while not as hostile as some could be toward other personnel, he understand that they’re all on the same side and nothing will come from him trying to pound the crap out of some retard who cant keep his mouth shut.

Collecting and building models, simply food...will travel for good. Readimg, because nothing beats a good book.

 Field/Work Experience:   
Marics experience is limited to the Army Schools he has attended. OSUT, Airborne, Air Assault, SFAS SOFAS and Q-Course. Which were quickly followed up by free fall. Once assigned to 3SFG Maric was pushed out on several field exercises, to include JOAX, COAX, amd multinational exercises from various platforms. Upon completion of Ranger School he was placed into a deployable ODA amd is on standby pending his first actionable assignment.
 Personal History:
    Maric was born in NYC New York, came from a long line of military men. His grandfather was a captain in fleet (ret.). His father was a LCpl in the Marine corps at the time of his birth. His mother was a house wife until Maric turned six. She went back to school, while working as a bookkeeper for a local law firm. That kept her away from her family quite often. And with Maric's father on extended assignments in Asia and god knows where at the time, he was forced to spend a lot of time with his grandfather while growing up. A lot of that time was filled with war stories and complaining about how kids were now days. Maric did enjoy his time with the old man quite a bit. However a stroke 4 years later cut that short.

By the age of thirteen Maric's initial family was moved to Australia. His uncle ran drills out of New Guinea as an instructor. Maric went to school and made a lot of friends. He was one of those types that were easy to approach and enjoyed good conversation. A trait he got from his grandfather, at least that's what his dad told him. High School came around quick. His sophomore year was in his opinion the best time of his life. It's when he met and started dating Jessica Annay. Beautiful, great athlete and a total math wiz. She was his tutor, which quickly changed. Thanks to his initiative.

The following year Maric's father was declared as MIA in the middle east given that it had been out of contact  for quite some time, Maric had already feared the man was dead, amd subconsciously had already convinced himself of that fact. To top it off his Uncle was rotated back into active duty under the 3rd Marines and sent out with several marines of his newly graduated class as their platoon sergeant. Maric spent a lot of time at home, mostly out of worry for his mother. His father was something he preferred to ignore. The guy wasn’t there, be he dead or missing, it was all the same. Maric was already preparing for his career in the US Military  and had enough to worry about at this point.

Senior year, at the age of seventeen. A bitter sweet moment for Maric. His father came home, however being stuck in a wheelchair and missing one leg. Sure Maric knew the risks but he couldn't believe what had happened. The following month Maric graduated, no real honors a fairly average student, but a great athlete. Within a week and having his parent's "grudging" approval Maric had plans to enlist. But first he owed them at least two years of college complete with an AS minimum. So the young man did just that, majoring in computer science. If Of course with this time came new interests and possibilities.

The would be Marine set his eyes on the 18X contract. He signed his name and never once looked back. OSUT was what he expected ot to be
 No real surprises in that pipeline. Fourteen weeks came and went. Airborne was simply cake, he still laughs to this day at those who fwll out of runs, or got terminated due to the APFT.

However SWC, and it's following SFAS was where the pressure was turned on. And in that environment is where Maric thrived. This was the challenge he had been craving, or so he thought.

Thebpresure only increased as he passed selection, moving onto tje Q-Course after being tossed into the Bravo program. The course was fun, it was a gentlemensgentlemen club of sorts, it was the army simply. However his trials showed to be the DLAB, where Maric was selected to speak French. He was lost in the sauce and almost failed.

But with a lot of peer, self, and professional tutoring Maric made it by the skin of teeth. He domed his green baret, and was pinned E-5 upon graduation amd sent to 3rd SFG.

Upon arrival it was apparent thay he needed to be trained up and wouldn't be deployable for a while. In fact Maric knew how rare his case was. Even if passing, most 18X guys get non select and told to pick up a deployment and return to SF. That was the general rule of thumb, but he was snapped right off the street amd thrown into play.

While hebdidnt get to deploy with  of the other ODA's he was placed on a supplementing team and put on training rotations and pushed thro u h schools. Maric bid his time, stacking his successes until his peers amd seniors would deem him worthy.

It wasn't until completing Ranger School, witch he had to recycle during  mountain phase due to injury, that  he was finally assigned and placed on ODA 3333. Officially the FNG

Victoria Talburn - Mother
Devon Talburn - Gather
Jessica Annay - Ex girlfriend  (mutual split)

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