you think you're cursed it's what you deserve; [open]

[letmelive]

Claire Redfield isn't the type of person to sit quietly when she's got a lot on her mind, sorting all the thoughts out into a neat little row until they make sense to her. She wishes she were that organized, but even when she's filing reports her associates in TerraSave always complained about how chaotic her way of going about things seemed to be.

On the meatship things aren't much different. Her thoughts blurred together, one running into another until they made even less sense than they did starting out. Whenever she got to this point, she needed to find a way to burn off excess frustration, and work her thoughts out in a more productive manner.

So, if anyone is looking for Claire, she's down on the Precinct's practice range. She could have easily gone to the Sensoriums, but she's decided she's not a terribly huge fan of simulated reality. It's a little more satisfying to her to be standing on a real range with actual surroundings as opposed to one of Stacy's training programs, anyway. She also figured she was less likely to be bothered down here, while people tended to wander into the Sensoriums rather regularly.

As it is, she's practicing accuracy with a throwing knife. It's been a long time since she practiced, Chris would probably yell at her if he knew exactly how long, but now that things were more or less picking up, she felt like it was probably one of the skills she should probably be brushing up on. Not to mention it was incredibly satisfying, throwing the blade and visualizing her target as all her current problems.

"Damn it!" she muttered as her fifth knife went high, hitting outside of her target range. Her aim was a little rusty, partly due to everything frustrating her, partly due to lack of practice. She exhaled through her nose, walking down the range to collect her knives and start again.

Comments

[bsaa-ace.livejournal.com]

Chris happened to be out taking a walk, having left his crutch behind and was now walking with a very slight limp, hardly noticeable really. He had seen Claire throwing a few of the knives, and could instantly tell, something was up. Rusty or not, only when things were starting to come to a boil is when she got that rusty.

As such, once Claire gathered the knives up and began to return to the end of the range, she would see Chris, waiting for her there, wearing a very familiar and understanding smile.

"Something bothering you, sis?"

[unsc-rabbit.livejournal.com]

Here Claire have a very tall Spartan woman joining you at the range. Kelly, to be honest, hadn't known about the Precinct. Had she known, she would no doubt have shared Claire's opinions about simulated reality. There just wasn't anything that could beat the real deal. No matter how real Stacy tricked her mind into believing it was.

So here she came, a huge duffel bag containing a veritable arsenal of weapons over her shoulder. Setting the bag down, she pulled a table over, set a chair behind it and proceeded to lay out the weapons neatly on the table. She stopped for a brief moment to nod politely at Claire before continuing her work.

Once the assortment of rifles, pistols, knives, a shotgun, a rocket launcher, and various grenades were laid out on the table, she reached into the bag to pull out a cleaning kit, opening it and setting it beside her before picking up a pistol. Pulling the empty magazine from it, she set it aside and quickly disassembled the gun, beginning the cleaning process.

She paid Claire no mind until she heard the cursing and lifted her head, tilting it to the side slightly.

"Bad throw?" Her tone was casual as if these things just happened all the time.