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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 11, 2010 12:31:08 GMT -5
In here is the state of the art firing range, four dozen booths and at the end of each range is a holographic target which picks up shots as accurately as a simple foam or paper target would. There are display pads at each booth for members to adjust how far away their target is, how big or small it is and what shape it takes whether it be human, animal or B.O.W. The range of weaponry to train from is reasonable and the amount of ammo handed out is reasonable.
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Post by .Merios on Mar 14, 2010 15:17:15 GMT -5
Spencer pushed open the door to the Firing Range. A smile curled on his weathered lips as his eyes took in the scenery. It was quite beautiful, for him, anyway. The booths seemed to stretch on forever throughout the length of the room, with a huge bullet-proof glass-protected storage and receiving station which perfectly fit a long, white desk that had a variety of paperwork and computer monitors lined up. The glass was slightly tinted, so he couldn't really make out the face behind the glass, but the intercom came on and a raspy, male voice spoke.
"You're up bright and early."
Spence walked further in, his feet leading him to the counter of the load-out station, the man from the intercom sitting at a desk behind the glass, a small sliding box system at the base of the glass was the only way to receive firearms and ammunition. He leaned in and propped his elbows up on the table, talking into the small circular spot of drilled holes in the glass.
"Yeah, it's sort of a habit. Ya got a Sig 226?"
The man behind the glass nodded and slid away from his position, still in his chair. He stood up as he exited the room and returned minutes later with a small dark pistol in his right hand. He sat back down and opened the small box on his end, placing the pistol inside it.
"How many mags?"
"Four should do it."
The man slid back in his chair and opened a small drawer under the desk, retrieving a small case and placing it into the box. He slid the box outward from him, allowing it to slide through the glass and letting Spencer retrieve the firearm and ammunition. Spence nodded and reached in and snatched up the Sig and the ammunition. The man pulled the box back inside the room as Spencer walked away, moving to a firing range directly across from the counter. He stood at the booth and placed his pistol down on the small counter. He looked to his right and his hand flitted to the controls, imputing a few commands into the tiny screen. He reached down and pulled the drawer out beneath the counter, pulling out a set of ear plugs and a pair of slim, white clear glasses. He slid the glasses on and inserted the ear plugs.
A sound emitted from downrange, the words "Level 2, Medium Difficulty. Moving Targets" spoke over the intercom with a mechanical, female voice. As soon as she finish speaking, Spencer reached down and grabbed the pistol with his right hand, sliding the first mag into the base of the grip with his left hand and fluidly pulling back the hammer and moving his left hand into position underneath his right as his index finger slid over the trigger. The first target leaped into position, it was a Licker- jumping across the range. He took aim and quickly squeezed the trigger four times, leading the target and placing all four rounds into the creature's torso with minimum spread. The target vanished as four more began stumbling out further down range- zombies.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 16, 2010 10:00:48 GMT -5
Spine stiffened, holographic hostiles ping up and down. 23 revolutions before the bullet hits its target. Inhale. Depress trigger. Recover, readjust. Next subject: Ma-39, German Shephard. Perforate front left leg; immobilized; execute through top of skull. Eliminated.
Breathe out.
Subject #16 - #17 - #18: Carriers. Deterioration in 17's leg, immobilize. 16's neck severed, head hanging back via spine; puncture right shoulder, swing posture around from bullet force; head visible. Eliminated. High agressive state from 18, frequent twitching; first round to dampen momentum, second to eliminate. Magazine depleted. Reload, readjust. Eliminate 17. Relax.
Fine scarlet and fur collar jacket, black cap. It was a cold morning. The ebony justicar ejected the magazine from her firearm and set it standing upright. She turned 90 degrees to her left and tapped away at the LCD panel.
<Mode: Speed range | Target style: Traditional bullseye | Practice will begin in 3... 2...>
At the sound of the buzz and red LED strobe Pandora turned back to facing downrange, grabbed the upright magazine and slammed it into her firearm. Assumed weaver stance. Targets zipped up and down, left and right, faded in and out. Pandora tapped the trigger twice for each target, half a second between each bullseye; six hits. Red LED flittered back on for reload, Pandora let the spent magazine fall to the floor while picking up a second in tandem; the LED strobed once to indicate two seconds were left before phase 2. Slide catch released.
...
<Range complete. Hit ratio: 92% | Accuracy: 83%>
Two misses; the first had thrown her off the second and threw her accuracy off to boot. The justicar strived for perfection, only issue towards Pandora is when she fails in perfection her performance drops. She had a word with the onsite psyche about it and was told OCD might be the issue; she could either go on medication or work it out herself. In summary, that was why she was here.
Another individual entered the range. Pandora perked as she heard a male voice; suddenly uncomfortable. Collecting her equipment she stepped out of the booth space and headed over to the quartermaster. Pandora turned to watch Spencer as he practiced; jealous; that was perfection. She noted the sidearm and turned to the quartermaster.
Pandora pressed her head against the glass, doing this to see the quartermaster on the otherside. She never really liked being unable to see who she was speaking to, "I'll have what he's having," Pan had picked that up from a television show she watched and wanted to use it in her own speech sometime. The man on the other side smirked as he took her equipment.
Why?... Neck bent, stacking tray; Sterno exposed. Asphyxiate--
Pandora snapped out of it, upset with herself. She took the 226 and magazines quickly and stepped away from the quatermasters booth; worried a little towards whether she would have applied her previous thought into practice if the glass barrier hadn't been there.
Perfection.
The ebony justicar had stopped to watch Spencer practice, noting stance - isosceles - breathing technique. Once his range finished a set she turned her full attention to his eyes, adressing, "You shoot very nice," open with compliment "I was unaware anyone practiced this early," follow with ignorant comment "Do you come here often early in the morning?" close with query, tilt head, raise brow for body language.
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Post by .Merios on Mar 29, 2010 13:34:16 GMT -5
Spencer lifted the pistol over the booth's desk and slid his right thumb up and above the grip to the small circular button and depressed it, dropping the magazine to the table with a clang. His left hand moved in one swift motion to the hammer and pulled it back, sending a round rocketing into the air quietly. Spence switched hands and let the pistol rest in his left hand as he outstretched his right and snatched the round out of the air and set them both on the table in front of him. His hands moved to his head as he lifted off the pair of earmuffs. He heard a female voice from behind him and glanced over his shoulder before completely turning around. She seemed to be dressed for winter casual. He was in nothing more than gray undershirt with a khaki-colored BSAA cotton long-sleeved jacket- he felt underdressed.
"You shoot very nice, I was unaware anyone practiced this early, do you come here often early in the morning?"
His lips curled into a smirk and he shrugged his shoulders, "Today was just a good day I guess." He was always humble- that was just how his mind worked.
"I come in the morning- your defenses are the lowest in the morning and at night. Before dawn is the best time; you're neither here nor there.. The sun hasn't quite risen and the moon is almost gone. It's almost as if you're the only one on the Earth."
He turned around briefly to scoop up the pistol and the magazine and walked back to the desk, leaving the single round on the desk. As soon as he approached the quartermaster's booth, the box slid out. He placed the weaponry inside the metal box and it slid back inside the glass. He turned towards her and leaned on the table in front of the booth.
"I try to come here as often as possible in the morning.. It's sort of a wake up call for me."
He reached down with his right hand and put his palm over the holster for his personal sidearm. His index finger danced over the Velcro strapping it in and it was free. He wrapped his hand around the grip and withdrew his Samurai Edge; the wood was chipped and there were what looked like permanent red splotches on the mahogany grip. The metal wasn't polished to a fine sheen but it seemed like it was of sturdy construction. He glanced at her then turned around, tapping on the glass with the barrel of the pistol.
"Two mags, .40"
The plump quartermaster disappeared into the back room for a moment before appearing back at his chair, placing the two magazines into the metal box which then was slid out to Spencer. He reached down and withdrew the two magazines and turned around and walked past her, stepping back to his booth. He set one of the magazines on the desk and, with his left hand, he slapped the other into the butt of the pistol's grip with a quick jerk. He turned back around, letting the pistol rest on his lap, both hands resting on top of one another as he basically sat and leaned against the table.
"You're.. Pandora, right?" He said bluntly.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 29, 2010 21:09:26 GMT -5
"I come in the morning- your defenses are the lowest in the morning and at night. Before dawn is the best time; you're neither here nor there.. The sun hasn't quite risen and the moon is almost gone. It's almost as if you're the only one on the Earth."
Pandora became slightly flustered once the Veteran had turned around to gather his equipment. She was able to understand the opening to his answer but a fraction of the second half threw her off, having not heard it before and thus becoming confused. Concern struck her as to her potential incorrect reaction being incorrect, I understand it's conditioning... to do with morning, thankfully Spencer spoke again before she was able to make herself look stupid. Applies practice in the morning to wake up, Pandora raised her eyebrows at this, having not heard of someone using target practice to 'Wake Up' before either, "I usually open my eyes when my alarm rings..." she had a blank look on her face, everything except the left corner of her mouth which was pulled back.
Direct bodily movement, caught Pandora's attention as Spencer unholstered his firearm on his person. Intruigue set upon her, extended barrel; the logo of S.T.A.R.S. resided on the pistol grip, an indication that the Vet was from long ago; before the first outbreak. She followed the path of the sidearm entirely as it traveled up to the glass and tapped twice, the two taps booming in the currently quiet firing range with orange shockwaves resonating outwards. This was funny body language to Pandora, what had Spencer implied? The question was answered once the Vet asked for his ordinance and the quarter master huffed off. It clicked, method of gathering attention, works well in quiet environments, Pan bit her lip while her mind moseyed on the idea snapping back to the now when Spencer left the quartermaster. Pandora's eyes followed briefly before she brought them back to the QM, bowing, something one of the other operatives did whenever he received his firearm.
Pandora passed over to the booth next to Spencer, sidearm and rounds placed delicately on the desk. The two magazines went upright as before, and she tested the 226 lifting it slightly from the grip, light weight, picked it up entirely and entered weaver stance. She recalled what she'd noticed how Spencer was standing before and readjusted, feet parallel, arms directly out in front. It wasn't quite as comfortable, and Pan felt a little more exposed, but being level with the ironsight proved to develop a better image compared to the weavers offside view. Pandora put the pistol down and turned to her LCD display, tapping through settings.
"You're.. Pandora, right?"
Smile, even though Spencer couldn't see it, effort placed into name recall, clear consideration for fellow peers, "Yes Captain. Pandora Brooklyn. Operator in S.T.A.R.S." answer with vigor, just like everyone else. Pandora was about to finish her command when she suddenly cleared the selection entirely, create friendly competition, "Would you like a game of double practice?" Pandora queried, "One-on-one or tagteam," she sometimes watching the competitions other agents would have in the firing range, never participating in fear she might make herself look foolish. With only her and Spencer in the firing range though she wouldn't be able to embarras herself, so the opportunity was there.
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Post by .Merios on Mar 29, 2010 21:53:59 GMT -5
He listened to her query regarding competition intently. He's never actually done it before- compete within a firing range.
"Well. I don't see why not." He paused.
"Go ahead and fire it up, whichever you'd like. It's your call, doll."
He turned his head to the small screen on the side of the booth, setting his pistol down on the table. He lifted his right hand and began to tab through the settings. He moved a finger to the small tab on the right side of the menu which read:
<Compete>
He tapped it gently then moved down to the new window that appeared near the bottom of the screen. There were several options- Spencer navigated to the button which read:
<Link to Remote Device>
He moved away from the booth and backed up, leaning backwards a bit and looking up, peeking at the number above his booth and the number above hers. He then moved back into his own booth, his hand moving to the screen. The new window that appeared once he pressed the previous button revealed a long list of numbered links along with a scroll bar for navigation. He dragged down the scroll bar and selected her number. Another window came up:
<Requesting Link...>
<Success! Awaiting Response...>
A new window appeared, among several other options, he chose one which read:
<Allow Remote Control>
Spence stepped away from the LCD as it glazed over to a glossy light blue with a single button labeled <Cancel> on the bottom left of the screen as the only interactive object. He stepped back to his original position and faced forward, moving his right hand to the desk to rest on top of his sidearm. He began his breathing motions, his chest slowly rising and falling. He inhaled slowly for four seconds and gently held it for four seconds and exhaled slowly for four seconds, repeating the process.
1...Exhale...2...Exhale...3...Exhale...
Slowing down heart rate was one of the ways he was trained to steady his hand-it's worked wonders whenever he needed it. Spencer closed his tired and beaten eyes, moving his left hand up to his neck, his index and middle finger depressing on his carotid arteries on the left side of his neck, silently listening to the rhythmical beat of his heart.He counted out the seconds between each beat, his breath slowing. He opened his eyes slowly as the seconds between each thump breached four. He moved his hands down to the table and picked up the pistol, gripping it with his right hand and moving it to eye level. He corrected his stance, sliding his feet apart slightly and turning his right foot on the X axis, turning it horizontal barely to compensate for the weight shifted on his back foot as he slid it behind him.
He let his right hand fall to his side and he moved his left hand to the wall on the left, grabbing the earmuffs and sliding them around his neck, waiting for a response from his competition.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 31, 2010 11:58:42 GMT -5
Pandora was so excited; competing against another Operative! It was a thrill of a social aspect which she'd never felt before; in complete contrast her mental being was jumping, giddy with joy, while the physical form of herself stood sternly. If you looked at her at a funny angle though you'd probably noticed the hint of a smile; but she hid it, other agents seemed to smile after a competition which was when she'd save it for. Pan ticked the screen to accept the link up, she had to recover from her hyperactive state if she was going to do any good with her practice.
Her heartbeat raced: <Mode: Hostile Takedown | Target Type: B.O.W. level 3 | Level consists of: Lickers, Hunters, large mobs of carriers | Practice will begin in 3... 2...>
Her hands were in synchronization with the blare of the starting siren and flashing red light, right hand lashing out and wrapping around the 226 while the left snatched a magazine and slapped it into the sidearm; catch released, all that stood between her and her targets were a pair of iron sights. Pandora had been halfway into entering weaver stance before realizing her blunder and readjusting to isosceles, ready to give the posture a try.
First threat, going in by what seemed the order mentioned from the system, was a Licker. The idea with this particular level was to deal with the most immediate threat, micromanage; if you messed up and an enemy attack made it through, your practice finished on the spot. Pandora's mentality changed...
Wide attack, potential slash with lamina of subjects tongue; approximate time to impact 1.14 seconds; disarm.
A round spat forth and hit the Lickers tongue at its maw.
Disconnected. Subject closing distance. Particular angled gallop suggests attack from right hand chelae; hit to: left carpal joint, left ulna in elbow below anterior ligament...
Another two rounds tore into the Lickers wrist and elbow.
Subdued. Moderate incapacitation. Hit to: frontal lobe. Eliminated. Relax; readjust.
The Lickers hologram deteriorated into thin air. Pandora waited patiently at standby for the next target. Six zombies popped into view, Pandora labeled A to F from closest to furthest.
Subjects. Carrier mob; level of decay varied. Early infection displayed by carrier C; movement more rapid than peers. Interject via round to left tarsus; ankle stability compromised, movement speed decreased. Adjust to carrier A, distance 326cm, close enough for immediate neutralization; Eliminated. Carrier B suffering from intense swelling of the carotid artery; rupture...
The massive lump around the zombie's neck under its jaw popped leaving a huge hole around its collar and jaw enough to have the neck of the spine visible. It seemed to seizure briefly before slightly coagulated brown blood oozed from its eyes, ears, nose and mouth; then dropped to the ground.
Eliminated. Carrier D and F progressed past C. D's posture slouched, movement slow; execute through top of head. Eliminated. Severe twitching from F, rabid nature; chance of hitting skull minimal; hit to: knee, fracture patella; level of decay crippling joint. Subject fallen to ground and rolled onto back; twitching still constant yet a distinct chance of hit increase. Concentrate...
A jump from the 226.
Miss. Round connected to clavicle, significant movement decrease. Eliminated through parietal bone of skull. Distance from carrier C decreased to 7 metres; limp results in cradling head, time shot with carriers weight control of right step. Round penetrated ethmoid, right eye socket. Eliminated. Carrier E showing no sign of acknowledgement, posture stoic. Inhale; depress trigger. Round connected to left temporal. Eliminated. Reload; readjust.
Releasing the magazine; it slid out of the 226's grip, no support from Pan to catch it, and clattered to the floor. There were still two rounds remaining in the box, but the odds of anything popping up which only required two shots were impossible; all of these factors added up to the overall score. The third set of holographic targets popped into the range, a pack of three hunters.
Bullet penetration chance poor; use inertia of hollow point to expose weak locations on subjects.
The decision to label each of them was unnecessary, the system had programmed the round to be a planned attack. Pandora's counter would be completed in a matter of seconds regardless.
Left most Hunter-u utilizing wall for attack; hit to: left coxa, mouth or mandible. Summary: first contact results lax in subjects grip, dropped to ground; second contact straightens subjects posture exposing stomach. Pierce heart. Eliminated... Centre most Hunter--
A microsecond had been spared for Pandora to work out why she had paused in her concentration; normally this meant she'd unconsciously noticed she'd done something wrong. Wrong indeed. She'd mixed up the anatomy of Hunter-u with the original Hunter-á, the heart situated further down the torso; she had aimed too high. There was no time for correction though, Pan followed through.
--approaching parallel with right most subject. Double tap to jaw, thyrohyoid muscle cramped; stiff reaction apparent, arms raised and stomach exposed. Eliminated. Right most Hunter approaching with intention to ram, hit to: left shoulder, spin posture off balance. Subject dropping to ground; momentum tipping subject backwards, stomach exposed; neutralize. Off target. Neutralize. Inconsistency; double tap. Second round neutralized target suggesting heart was situated several centimetres higher than normal...
Pandora caught a flash in her peripheral, adjusting in time to unload the rest of her rounds into the first Hunter she had engaged which was in the process of leaping through the air for a quick kill; a round skimmed its ribs and collided with the wall at the back of the range. The hologram deteriorated moving through Pandora putting forth an uncanny sensation.
Reload. Readjust.
The last set of holograms popped up; four more zombies, but much closer this time. Pandora had to react quickly, no time for labeling. Just act.
Subject #1 most near, 246cm. Eliminated. Subject #2--
One of the zombies Pandora hadn't been focusing on suddenly lurched forwards faster than its original pace; she originally made the assumption they were all well decayed yet the trousers this undead man wore likely covered the not quite maggot ridden legs which propelled it forwards. A slither of panic for indirect action, Pandora turned to engage pulling the trigger as soon as possible; suppressed any anger.
Round penetrated left lung; employ recoil to aid ascent to head. Eliminated.
The second zombie Pan had been focused on before hand was now much closer, just within reach. She swung the pistol over to it firing a shot passed its neck, then directly at its neck, again shattering its jaw, and once more.
Eliminated. Subject #4; distance 260cm. Eliminated. Relax
The red light flashed and there was a quick 'ping' sound to report the range was complete. A 'ping' programmed in instead of a 'siren' so not to throw off anyone still in competition. Pandora sighed and looked to her report.
<Range complete. --- Hit ratio: Overall rds: 93% Neutralization rds: 41% --- Accuracy: Overall: 72% Neutralization: 98% --- Survival Management: Moderate>
Pandora sulked a little. She'd seen the reaction to accuracy lower the 80% before, the person was much of a laughing stock for the rest of the duration of the competition. All her mind could do for that moment was go over and over the scenarios as to how they should have played out, and placed her sidearm on the bench beside her.
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Post by .Merios on Mar 31, 2010 15:10:30 GMT -5
Spencer's heartbeat was steady, his eyes were closed, and his hands moved to the desk to remove the magazine from the .40. He set them down on the table and waited. The blaring siren rung out, echoing throughout the room. He quickly reached down with his right hand, grasping the grip of his sidearm and moving his left hand fluildy to the magazine. As he moved the pistol up to sights, he slapped the mag into the weapon and pulled back the hammer as he switched his stance to a modified weaver- may not be the best stance for moving targets, but it's served him well when it comes to rapid target acquiring.
Mode: Hostile Takedown | Target Type: B.O.W. level 3 | Level consists of: Lickers, Hunters, large mobs of carriers | Practice will begin in 3... 2...>
A solitary Licker phased into existence down range; halfway between himself and the back wall. It was moving quickly, it's limbs a blur as it skittered towards him on a virtual "ceiling". He closed his right eye and lined up his sights, moving his right thumb up from the grip to slide a small lever up to "Burst" from "Semi". He waited until it got a few feet closer, inhaling deep. As soon as it got within range, he exhaled in sync with his finger pulling the trigger, three rounds exploded from his pistol, the first round smacking into the lower intestinal area of the creature, the recoil from the burst moved his sights upward, allowing the recoil to place the next round into the upper torso, tearing through where it's left lung would have been, the last round was guided slightly upward by the recount and smashed through the nasal cavity, snapping the creature's head backwards violently as it's limp body careened towards his booth, digitizing as soon as it hit his desk in a burst of pixels.
Six zombies staggered out of existence down range, near the Licker's starting position. Spencer took the time to start from the left to the right, regardless of distance. He moved his thumb up to slide the lever back down to "Semi" and lined up his sights with the first zombie, taking aim at center mass and firing off a round, hitting it square in upper left area of it's breast bone, sending it's left shoulder snapping back and spinning it slightly in place, the monster fell to it's knees for a moment. Without having to change his sights too much, Spencer squeezed the trigger once more, the round smashing through it's upper right cheekbone and exiting through the rear of the skull.
One down...
He began to start the sequence he had planned in his head. After two squeezes of the trigger, the second zombie had been struck in the left kneecap, making it tip over to the left onto the ground- the third zombie had it's head back, so the second shot fired went straight through the front of the exposed larynx and exiting through the lower half of the back of it's skull, sending backwards to the ground. He lined up his sights and inhaled, taking great aim at the monster's head. It was twitching and bouncing around, so it wasn't an easy shot. When he exhaled, he timed it with a trigger pull, the shot barely missed, grazing past it's intended part of the forehead, leaving a scratch and the round embedded itself in the back wall. Spencer scoffed and took aim once more, squeezing twice- both rounds hitting the monster in the neck and lower jaw respectively; somehow the monster dropped and disappeared, the round that went in the neck must have tore through the spinal column.
Spencer was getting worked up, but he had to keep his eyes on the prize. The next zombie was female and had it's head tilted to the side, the right side of her neck was exposed and seemed to have been injured resulting in loss of head movement. Spencer took this opportunity to line up a pot shot and fired, the single bullet smashing through the small patch of skin above the left eyebrow, sending the zombie to the floor with a thud. The two remaining zombies were within 15 feet now, so he had to act fast. He turned towards the two and lined up one shot to the 5th on the left. He squeezed the trigger once, the round smashing the right shoulder blade of the 5th, sending it spinning to the right- the two holograms became one momentarily and the vision blurred then reappeared as two zombies lying on top of one another; the 5th was crawling over the 6th to get to Spencer and the 6th was struggling to stand back up. 11 shots so far- the extended box magazine was a god-send, but only one shot left before he had to reload.
He took this additional opportunity to put use the last round in his magazine to the best of his ability and took aim at the 6th zombie which was pulling itself to it's feet, giving a clear shot to the back of it's neck from where Spencer was standing. He took it- the round hitting an inch below where he aimed, tearing through the spinal column and lodging deep within the zombie's body, lodging where the colon and lower intestine would have been. The zombie tipped forward on it's face as the 5th and second zombie inched ever closer. The 5th was no more than 2 feet from his booth so he had to act fast. His right thumb hit the clip release and he let the magazine clatter to the floor as his left hand swept up the other magazine and smacked it into the pistol and he pulled the slide release back just as the zombie was within a foot. He leaned over the booth and took the easy shot to the top of the head with one hand, dropping the zombie instantly. The second was getting closer, crawling towards him. He lifted his gun and moved into the basic law-enforcement stance, bending his left elbow slightly from the weaver stance and favoring his right side as he aimed.
He lined up his sights with the monster's mouth and just as the creature let out a moan, he fired- the bullet missed it's mark and spun upwards, tearing through the lower left half of it's skull and embedding on the wall. Spencer cursed and lined up a second shot, this time to the nasal cavity- it was a hit, the monster's face was unrecognizable from a human as it phased out of existence. He took a second to steady his heartbeat as the two Hunters emerged from down range. The first Hunter was full-on charging, and the second was meandering towards him. It seemed one was an Alpha and one was a Gamma. Great. The second took a huge leap towards him. He had to choose- the charging Hunter or the Leaping one. He slid his thumb up to the "Burst" mode and took aim at Gamma, the three rounds traced a line up the creature's middle, bursting the bubble it was making with it's gullet and tearing through the bottom of it's jaw. It was sent backwards onto the ground with a hard thud. He turned to face the Hunter Alpha- it was almost too late. He squeezed the trigger, not taking time to line up a shot.
The first round hit the ground, ricocheting upwards and bouncing off of it's hardened chest plate. The second round found it's mark in the left ankle of the monster and the third hit directly above where the second hit, right in the femur- shattering it. The Hunter stumbled forward and fell head over heels, rolling close to Spencer- about 10 feet from him. He took the time to aim as Alpha and Gamma were standing up- he took a shot at Alpha, two hitting it in the back of the head as it was pulling itself up and the third in the open maw of it, dislocating it's jaw and letting it hang as the Hunter toppled forward, disappearing. He turned to Gamma just as it stood up. He smirked and took aim, squeezing the trigger. The first round hit it in it's left side, the second smacked it's left shoulder, spinning it in place.
CLICK
Spencer's heart skipped a beat. He quickly looked down and moved his left hand to the slide of the firearm- the bullet was caught in the slide. He tapped it with his palm and pulled the slide back hard, unjamming it with a rough click. He then looked back up and squeezed the trigger without taking much aim, hitting the Gamma in the throat as it was leaping towards him with a wide open mouth, the monster's body disappeared just as it moved through him, giving him a nauseated feeling.
<Range complete. --- Hit ratio: Overall rds: 94.5% Neutralization rds: 66.2% --- Accuracy: Overall: 83.5% Neutralization: 98.7% --- Survival Management: Moderate-High>
He sighed a moved the pistol to the table, cursing the pistol for jamming. Although he may have had a slight advantage with the three-round burst, in the end it may have cost him his win. He didn't know her score yet, but he had a feeling that the course was cursed in the mornings. He hoped she had bad luck, but with a Sig, she probably didn't get a jam or miss too often. He moved to remove the ear plugs and set them on the desk next to his pistol. He then hit the mag release and set the magazine on the table, pulling the slide release back and sending the round in the pistol rolling along the table.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Post by Kruger on Apr 2, 2010 6:47:58 GMT -5
Lee had just walked into the firing range from his room. His hair is still moist from the shower he took. He is wearing urban ACU camouflage pants, black combat boots, a gray t-shirt that has the BSAA insignia on the front left side and on the center of the back of it. Also the t-shirt is neatly tucked into his pants. His pant legs are tucked into his boots and the top part of his boot laces that are tied together are also tucked into his boots. He has a black belt with a silver belt buckle. He walked over to the counter and looked at the quartermaster. "I need a Berretta 92FS with three clips." "Okay wait right here while I go to the back and get it for you." Lee stood there at the counter waiting for the quartermaster to come back. While he was standing there he heard other gunshots being fired. A smirk formed across his face as he figured that it wasn't going to be as silent here as it is at the running track. He turned around to see the quartermaster sitting back down at the desk. "There you go." The quartermaster said as the metallic box opened to display the pistol and three clips. "Thanks" Lee replied to him as he grabbed the gun and clips. He then proceeded to a booth and when he got there he put the gun and clips down. His face then focused on the data pad as he sat up for a wave of four zombies and one licker. He loaded the gun as four zombies formed and started making their way down range. Lee took aim as he fired three shots. The first bullet struck the zombie in its knee. The second missed because the zombie fell to its knees and the third bullet hit it in the shoulder. Lee fired again and hit it in the head. Lee then focused on the next three zombies. He fired three more shots, one at each zombie. The first bullet hit a zombie in the head. The second hit a zombie its chest and the third hit a zombie in the arm. He then took aim and kept his breathing calm as he pulled the trigger again. The bullet struck the zombie in its head. It wobbled forward a few more inches before falling to the floor and disappearing. He then fired at the last zombie two more times. The first bullet hit it in the other shoulder and the next bullet hit it in the head. Lee quickly reloaded his clip as a fleshy looking creature started climbing on the ceiling. He pointed the gun at it and took aim. He then let loose four rounds at the licker. The first bullet missed and hit right in front of it. The second bullet hit it shoulder and the third bullet hit it in the lower back. The fourth bullet hit it in the back right leg. The licker fell on the floor and flipped over. It hissed and shot its tongue out at him. In a quick blind guess shots he by some miracle hit the tongue in four shots. The licker then charged him and Lee fired two shots hitting it in both shoulders bringing it down to the floor making it skid a little. It looked at him as he fired two more shots at it. Both hitting its head blowing its virtual brains of the licker on the floor. Lee sighed as the licker disappeared and then he put the gun down as the panel said complete. Lee said to himself as he looked at the panel. Practice round done time to get the Sig 556.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 2, 2010 12:47:08 GMT -5
Catalogued sounds were somewhat of a nature to Pandora, they were important to her; they kept her alive in so many ways. Each sound is handed a level of importance; glasses clinking gave little significance, yet the incorrect deposition of a bullet told her she were able to counter act knowing no more rounds would fly in her direction. The Hunter had come close to ending Spencer’s practice prematurely; yet it was clear he'd neutralized the Hunter, the program dismissed the fourth round. Confusion set on the ebony Justicar; she calculated the circumstance with the only plausible conclusion being misinterpretation of Spencer’s sidearm jamming cutting the range short. In the end, the siren blared. Pandora looked to the spreadsheet as it chimed on her display placing hers and Spencer’s recordings beside each other.
Pandora scowled, holding her tongue. It wasn't of her prediction being correct, mostly; anyone who had far more experience than herself would indefinitely have an improved accuracy or hit ratio than her, and Spencer was no exception; moreover she'd been served more targets. Effectively this was nothing more than a friendly game of chess which Pan had put to challenge. Instead it was the 0.7% difference in Neutralization Accuracy which caught her off; she'd just held back on her molectronics before they'd powered up her left hook which smacked into the side of the LCD screen subtly. Burning envy; Pandora had prized herself on killing efficiency; studying human, animal and B.O.W. anatomy for the most effective approach with the variables you were given. Yet still she was shown up. Here onwards it'd manifest into a grudge; from there it'd be a loss in self esteem, then she'd train relentlessly to improve; after a month a request from the psyche would be transferred to her. Pandora knew the pattern too well, and knew how well she couldn't help it making the OCD even more of a realization.
Suddenly the girl wished she hadn't offered the competition, squinting ever so slightly to beat back a tear. A trembling finger raised to disconnect from the link and logout from the booth; at the same time another individual entered the range causing her to panic slightly. Pandora turned to Spencer, "Thank you Captain that was a lot of fun," Show respect to peer... smile. Pandora gathered her equipment quickly crossing from the booth to the Quartermaster and handing it all over. In return the QM passed Pan her Matador which she tucked into her upper back holster. The person who had entered was a younger agent; Pandora made an effort not to make eye contact while passing, shoving the door of the firing range open with little conscience to whether it came off its hinges or not.
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Post by .Merios on Apr 4, 2010 11:51:55 GMT -5
Spence noted the anger in her words and he just sighed as she strolled past, shoving the firing range door open like an angry bull. He wondered what he did, but it came to him naturally-he won. He wasn't sure if he deal with angst like that- what if someone shot slightly better than her on the battlefield? The firing range is usually a good place to train firearms, but it's also a great place to recognize what kind of mentality his unit had. Spencer scooped up the empty mag and remove the one he had used. He moved away from his booth and shrugged, heading over to the quartermaster and handing in the magazines to the box and giving him a slight nod before turning around and leaning on the desk, glancing over at the new man who entered.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Post by Kruger on Apr 5, 2010 2:18:44 GMT -5
Lee turned around as he heard the door slam. As he turned around he saw someone else at the counter. He approached the counter and gave the quartermaster back the pistol and clips. He then asked: "Can I get a Sig 556 with four mags?" "Hold on I'll be right back" Lee turned to look at the man who was looking at him. By the clothes he was wearing Lee figured he was up very early this mourning. The quartermaster came back and opened the metallic box to reveal the weapon and clips. Lee grabbed the Sig with one hand and out stretched the other toward the man.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lee Kruger, BSAA Agent."
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Post by .Merios on Apr 5, 2010 21:18:02 GMT -5
Spencer watched as the man walked up and retrieved an assault rifle. His eyes followed the gun as it was brought to the man's side, then his eyes moved up and locked eyes with the Agent outstretching his hand. Spencer's lips curled into a smirk and he moved his hand to meet his, grasping Lee's hand with his right, shaking it. Spencer was an aged man, and he knew that the first handshake was important and first impressions were very intuitive.
"Captain Spencer Kilroy," he said plainly,"Welcome aboard, by the way. I'm still getting to know my team so forgive me if I forget names."
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Post by Kruger on Apr 5, 2010 22:56:23 GMT -5
As Lee shook hands he held a firm grip. When he heard him say "Captain Spencer Killroy" he thought to him-self that he was going to get busted for not saluting first. When they got done shaking hands Lee gave a salute and said: "That is okay if you forget my name Captain. I am new to this base to and its hard for me to remember names on my first couple of days." As he stood there still in salute he was thinking about asking him a question. He thought about it for a couple a seconds and then he said: "Captain sir I need to ask you a question. Who was that the person that went out just a minute ago and nearly broke the door?" He then stood there in firm salute wait to see if he would get an answer or not.
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Post by .Merios on Apr 6, 2010 12:10:19 GMT -5
"At ease." Spencer spoke, moving his hand back down to his side. He listened to the man's query and chuckled a bit, glancing to the door.
"Her name is Pandora.. She may end up being your partner some day. You're both on my team," he said matter-of-factually.
Spencer pushed away from the counter and looked towards the door, glancing up at the clock on the wall. He gave a sigh, then glanced down at his watch- for an odd reason, his watch was always 2 minutes late. He had to fix that. Spencer then looked back up at Lee.
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