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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield

O.D.I. 605th Bravo 4th, "From Heaven we will visit Hell upon them."

0 · 300 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Chuckles

Description

UCON Department of the Navy / JOCOM-ODI

Personnel file:

Serial: 119-76-331-17 / 331-17-ODI
Name: Mayfield, Matthew D.
Age: 26
Rank: Lieutenant
MOS: O.D.I, Combat Operations Commander (COC)
Assigned Detachment: 605th Regiment, Bravo Company, 4th Platoon

---

Physical:

Height: 5โ€™ 11โ€

Weight: 173 lbs

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Blond

Blood type: A+




UCON Armory Records file 293-93
*Enter Classification ID:
Classification ID: 331-17-****
*Running code*
*Confirmed*
*Welcome Lt Mayfield,
Armory Request # 492-332

*Request Approved:

Armor:

Type 10 Combat Armor O.D.I. code (blk)/ M2 HRC Helmet O.D.I. code (blk)
Visible Insignia: none Hyper Coded Insignia: Lt-605-B4

Armament:

Primary: HRH-M92 Nano Rifle 12.8mm

Secondary: AMHR-MR20 20mm

Sidearm: PDW-M56K Lashkav 9.5mm SLAG 09

So begins...

Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield's Story

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield couldn't help but notice December Winter Black as she sat at the bar not far from him. He allowed himself to look her way for a minute, wondering if it would be worth anything to strike up a conversation.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield takes the mug from the soldier and drinks it down, "Oh you know, ODI is busy doing all that crazy shit we do so you guys can crack open the spirits for us." He raise a hand, "To every jar head Marine on this rock! I'm gonna drink one for every one of ya, and any one of you thinks he can do better pull up a chair!"

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield grimaced at the mention of beer, "Why on earth people drink that horse piss is beyond me. They made real liquor for a reason after all." he tipped the glass over and let the slightly unfamiliar drink take its course. It wasn't his usual, but he wasn't against it either, and it certainly was a good change of pace.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield accepted all comers as he gathered up shot glasses and various bottles of liquor, "Start with," He grabbed a bottle of Vodka and filled ever glass, "there we go. Kill em a bottle at time boys! First one to the ground, Hoorah!" He downed on shot and flipped the glass over, "Drop em boys, lets see some drinkin! Not every day some one else pays for all this shit!"

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield laughed as the one newcomer mentioned something about keeping their livers, "Well we ODI torture our livers into submission, they do what the hell we tell em to, and right now, I'm telling it to out last your friend here." He smiled as he downed another shot and looked at the empty bottle before him "Where the hell is another full bottle!" he demanded and grabbed the closest thing to him, a scotch. "Thats more like it, continue." he filled any empty glass he could find.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield caught Hayato's eye flutter slightly, he smiled, "Come on buddy, you got a couple more in you certainly. I'm sure if you don't go back to your superiors shit faced after this they'll be disappointed! After all, this is a challenge of pride right!" Mayfield's eyes wandered toward the yet unopened bottle of tequila, "I'll tell you what, you keep on that easy stuff." He cracked the seal, "And I'll get started on the hard shit." With a smile and took a quick sip out of the bottle. "And that one doesn't even count." He filled four glasses for himself, he didn't wager it would take much more than that, and if it did he could always start Hayato in on the Tequila, that would no doubt put the man on the floor.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield turned to the corporal, "Exactly how many times have you been shot out of a carrier a couple of miles above ground directly into the single hottest LZ command could find with no support?" he patted the man on the back, "Hey, you guys do a good job with that mop up stuff though." He drank on of his four shots, "But hey, I did see this one crazy ass marine take off on a hostile unit with a turret mounted machine gun, kid was walking own the street like he owned the place, this big ass gun singing to sweat heaven. He had the little bastards running for mom, never did make it back, but he sure as hell un-pinned his squad. This ones for that grunt." He took his second shot. He felt the effects of that one, though he didn't show any hint of it outwardly. "Damn, musta grabbed a good bottle."

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield protested the arrival of Lake, "Whoa now, no place takers, hell he wants out he's gotta say it. I've been at it now, she's fresh." He eyed the others around Hayato, "Shit, this ain't not tag team."

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield shook his head, "I'll drink till I'm on the floor tonight, but that one," he pointed to Hayato "He got out drunk by ODI, he still gets to say it, all in good fun." He passed a shot of tequila toward the already passed drunk man, "And he gets to drink one of these as his consolation." Mayfield thought the last shot could put the man on the floor anyway, it would be a win win. He didn't mind drinking against Lake so long as everyone knew what was up. He knew he would never catch the end of if if he let her beat him though, not with this many marines around.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield held up a hand, "We'll call this one round two then." He noted that she was issuing a challenge herself, with her own strait shot of tequila. Or rather, her own bottle. He cursed, took a few deep breaths, letting the oxygen get into his blood and counter the alcohol that was already in him. "Alright then." he took his own bottle of tequila which was down four shots, he was passed showing off, it was time to get serious. He took the last full shot glass and downed it quickly before righting them all again and filling them, draining the bottle. He started measuring his breathing, taking huge breaths of slightly filtered air, if he had his helmet on he could have detoxed, but that would be cheating. He picked up a glass, "Slam drunk here I come baby!" down it went, his body was settling into the tequila now, it was gonna be a long, and for UCON expensive, night of drinking.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield eyed the bottle Lake was now drinking from, it was rum, it was carribbean rum, it was certainly not the kind of rum that you got at the average alcohol store. He watched her eyes, she could drink it and she knew it. She also knew that he couldn't out drink her, whats more she knew that he knew that. Hell, he could drink a bottle of tequila, that rum she was drinking was not an uncommon drink for himself, but he had already been through more than a couple of bottles. He finished his shots of Tequila and eyed the bar counter. He still had at least four bottles left in him, at least four, he took out a rum, and whiskey, and then his eyes fell on a bottle, tucked away in the corner with a scrawled out label that read "Shine, 195" he smiled, if he was going to go out to this girl that was gonna be his ticket, and he was damn sure he was gonna walk out of the bar before passing out, even if he only made it into the nearest hallway.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield tried hard to think of the last time he had this much competition drinking, there were a hand full of ODI guys who would hold him to a draw on their good days. Then there was the one guy, he couldn't remember much about him, other than he wasn't human, that was a tough one too. He had never run across someone he knew he couldn't handle. He was fairly certain the only reason he wouldn't stand a chance tonight was because he had been so jovial with his drinking for some time before Lake ever came into the picture, he hadn't even kept track of the bottles he drank when it was just marines on the other side of the table. He got lost in his thinking as he finished off the whiskey and the rum. He looked at a marine, the man had the ever so slight hint of fuzziness around him, it was all starting to settle in, how ever many bottles later. Mayfield started guessing how long he had before it really set in, it was going to take an hour or more of pure O2 to detox this to any sort of manageable level once it all came back for the real hit. He grabbed two more bottles beside the moonshine and continued his quest.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield watched the bottle, it was possibly the hardest rum made, but he held something that was damn near 100% alcohol and he planned to finish it and walk out, it wouldn't be the first time he had put down a bottle of moonshine, but it would be first time he'd done it with so much other stuff in his system. He lifted the bottle and cracked the top, smiling. "Oh to hell we'll go, we'll tag along to the devils front door." He sang an ODI tune, "And on his door step on his knees he'll beg, he'll beg that we don't do more."

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield smiled as Lake started in on the rum. She had him, unless she was for some reason just prone to getting suddenly slam drunk from that particular rum. He looked around at the marines, most of which he had out drank long ago. "This bottle of moonshine, this fine work of alcoholic engineering, I drink this to you boys, I'd not leave you on the floor for nothing." He stood and set the open bottle to his lips, drinking down the contents, the burning started before it ever hit his throat, this was the kind of drink that could get men drunk off a whiff, one whiff. His throat burned like he was drinking fire. His eyes naturally watered and his head went clear as a bell. The pure strength of the moonshine kicked off the haze of to much alcohol, for a moment. He let the last drops out of the bottle before presenting it up ended. "It don't get no more alcohol than that ma'am." He set the bottle down hard and whipped his head, "I've out drank this entire unit of marines, hell, I've out drank any ODI I know. You're a hell of a drinker even if I did get a head start at it." He could feel the shine coming back at the back of his eyeballs, like it was trying to get out by bursting his head. "Now then, you've got the final drink." He prayed that the rest of the nights drinking didn't decided to hit him right now, his only chance at this was her not drinking, or passing out by some freak chance.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield felt it all coming back, he didn't even want to know what his blood alcohol level was, as an ODI he was trained to take lots of pain and tolerate a lot of things. It was the reason ODI's were known for out drinking damn near anyone, but at some point when you have more alcohol than blood there is no amount of conditioning that can help you for long. He put a hand out to shake Lake's, and with the other he pressed a button near his helmet lock, he could feel the suit inject fluids into his blood via IVs, it was a feature used in case a soldier was caught by chemical warfare without his helmet on, it happened to work wonders in this situation. Strictly speaking he wasn't supposed to use it, or any other features of his armor for out of combat situations, but then strictly speaking his supplies officer wasn't supposed to stock neurostims for personal use either, so they had come to a compromise.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield was confident enough in his own strength to walk again, as he broke off the hand shake. "I'll be retiring then. It was entertaining to say the least." Just like that the game was all over. As good as he was at drinking it wasn't every day that he was able to do so, especially to this extent. He would spend the rest of his free time in bed most likely, not from the hang over, that would be handled easily enough. No, for now it was just time to enjoy the simple pleasure of a bed. With out another word he made his way to his room upstairs, eyes slightly blurred, head still buzzing.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Gambit's Hotel, 10th Floor

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield Matthew's feet hit the ground hard along with three other pairs. "Sir, she's over here." Bower pointed toward the woman leaning against a heat unit. The city was falling apart around them and here they where on a rescue op. He couldn't say it was exactly what he would like to do with his time. "Right, watch any access points and keep an eye on the sky, I'd rather not get blown apart down here." He replied. Moving toward the figure he noticed first that she had her side arm, and then he noticed something about her. She seemed strangely familiar. "I'm Lieutenant Mayfield. We're here to get you out of this shit storm." He called over the sounds of the fighting going on around them.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield Matthew cocked his head to the side, this was the same woman. It never ceased to amaze him where you could run into people. "You could say that, short notice though." He knelt beside Lake and looked over the bandages. "Gunshot to the abdomen, kidney." He spoke mostly to himself. "Well, I can't say you picked a better time to get into this mess." His head swiveled toward a nearby explosion. "Shit, you'll not be doing much walking, much less any heroics." He pulled off his bag and began rummaging through it. "Pain killers?" He asked with out looking at her, simply holding up a bottle. "Did the shot go all the way through?"

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield Matthew looked at Lake like she had asked if he was a horse. "Sorry, they don't ration much liquor out for missions like this." He pulled out a device that was all folded arms and fabric and handed it to Bower who began to unfold it. "All I've got is medical alcohol, not such a good idea considering a hole in your kidney." The device Bower had unfolded was a portable gurney, which he set next to Lake.

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield sighed as he looked around. The explosions had died down but the city was still a mess. "A stretcher and a stick to bite down on." He smiled, "You can handle that right?" He moved to help her get onto the gurney. They would have to go down the stairs despite what damage had been done to the interior of the building. He had already thought about going over the side, but with Lake in this condition it was to dangerous, they didn't exactly have the rigging to get a gurney down a ten story building in the middle of a war.

The setting changes from gambits-hotel-10th-floor to Gambit's Bar

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Lt. Matthew D. Mayfield Mayfield pushed the door open and entered the bar. He was ready for a drink and a relaxing night. He lazily made his way to the bar, paying little attention to the people around him, just enough to not walk into anyone. Taking a seat he stared at the back wall, wondering what he should drink.

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Mayfield looked around casually, he noted Lake though she seemed different, he couldn't put his finger on it. He waved politely and indicated the seat next to him, hoping she would come over and chat.