trans_9 | Shooting Practice [Open]

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Shooting Practice [Open]

The Chief found something out while fighting the Taxxons, and that's that his aim isn't quite as sharp as he wants it to be right now. Whether that's because of being in the pod for a while or what, he doesn't know. It's just a detriment to his survival odds and so he's going to FIX it.

The thing he didn't anticipate, however, is what the Sensorium did when he asked it for a gun range.

He's standing behind a rather futuristic if unremarkable firing line, a massive room with the walls heavily insulated to absorb sound with a control system along one wall for various courses of fire.

He knows this place, and it sort of knocks the breath out of him a little bit. He stands in silence, just looking at it for a moment like a man who's seen a ghost. Because... he sort of has. This room probably doesn't even exist anymore, it's the range on Reach. He was trained here.

It's a fragile reverie, though. The next thing that catches his attention will break it and business will be got down to.

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Some people may or may not have noticed a lack of Bri lately.

That would probably have to do with the fact that ~~his mun is lazy and RL sucks~~ GLaDOS had snatched him up a bit before the whole brain-slugs-trying-to-take-over-the-ship incident for her little..."experiments". Let's just say he never want's to hear the word "cake" again.

At least he's out now, and at the moment, he's looking to let off some steam, which generally means some time in the Sensorium. He comes to a halt when he sees the Chief there, though.

"Oop, didn't know it was occupied. You mind?"

He starts, very slightly. Just a slight tensing along the shoulders, but it's very quickly gone as he turns to see Bri.

"No, not at all." He nods. "I was going to sight this in," he shifts the assault rifle a little in his arms. Sight adjustment's another possibility that's occured to him, who knows what happened to it while it was lying around in the locker.

"Target practice, huh?" he says with a chuckle. "Just what I was hoping for."

He moves over to a booth not too far away from the Chief. He draws the pistol holstered at his side, checking it with practiced efficiency.

"Got snagged for that one AI GLaDOS'...experiments...a couple days back. Anything interesting happen in the meantime?"

HAH.

The Chief raises an eyebrow, at the explanation for absence and the almost-humor of Bri's last statement considering what's been going down the last few days. "Yes. Half the crew was enslaved by alien brain slugs and we had a small civil war on our hands because they were trying to blank Stacy's memory. The infested are restrained in the medbay right now waiting for the slugs to die. Then there were the giant cannibalistic space worms one of them sicced on us." Interesting enough, you see.

"I'd ask you about the AI, but you can go first."

For a moment, Bri looks up from his pistol and just stares.

"...Damn. Startin' to feel lucky I wasn't there for that."

He goes back to his pistol, and takes aim down-range.

"GLaDOS seems to be some kinda research AI. Caught me while I was sleeping, and had me running weird logic puzzles through these sorta obstacle courses. Nothing too hazardous, though it looked like if you slipped up in some places, you'd fall a couple hundred feet to your death."

He takes a couple shots, getting them fairly close to center-mass.

"Any casualties?" he says, regarding the slug incident.

"None, thankfully. We had a near fatality with a guy that was shot in the head. I wasn't there, but apparently Brainiac 5 managed to stabilize him and he's recovering." The Chief himself has remained uninjured, so he had no real reason to go be underfoot in the medical bay and get any more detail than that.

Sleeping. That's an issue that's going to have to be figured out sooner or later, he can't stay awake indefinitely. But at the same time, he does not trust this ship at all.

"I'll have to sleep lightly and hope it wakes me up," he says, checking the rifle's sights against the target down the range. "Best any of us can do, I think. If it's one of the ship's AI's it can probably track us." The sights are aligned, he fires.

Once located, Samus had pegged the Sensorium as a place in which she would spend great amounts of time. In fact, she would probably want to spend the majority of her time there.

She had realized that the instant in which she regained was probably a rare one, and she wasn't going to gain full control over it any time soon. She could handle herself without the suit; it had just been quite some time ever since she'd relied on anything other than it. She probably should practice a little.

She made her way to the Sensorium,,Paralyzer gun in hand. It was conveniently already formed into a shooting range, although it was already occupied. She recognizes the figure, though chooses not to say anything to him as she makes her way to a shooting stand on the other side of the range.

There's another person here. There are things to be doing here, not standing. Not thinking about things that are gone. Moving along, now.

The Chief takes a place somewhere midway along the line, unconsciously settling into his old berth and making himself not think about it. There's a fresh target up, a simple bull's eye.

First thing's first, general safety housekeeping must be done. He looks over to Samus. "The range is clear," he says, a formal confirmation of something obvious. Procedure is, however, procedure.

Samus, not being much for chit-chat, looks over and nods. She knew the safety protocols, even bothering to put on ear and eye protection, and looked down the range at her target. She waited, though, for the signal that it was alright to fire.

She may act more reckless in the field, but the shooting range was always one of the only things she practiced careful caution in.

"The line is clear. Ready on the right." Pause. "Ready on the left." Pause. "Ready on the firing line... You may commence fire."

The Chief raises the rifle to his shoulder, taking his time about his shots to eliminate as much of his own human error as possible. He'll probably do this a few times, then check the groupings to see if they're consistently off-center.

She takes aim and fires. Little yellow-orange blasts make their way to the target in place of bullets, and leave black marks where they hit. It's an unconventional weapon, Chief could note, but it's also noticeably lacking any serious firepower.

Samus' mind wanders briefly to the last time she had to actually depend on this weapon, she manged to make it out alive but it was still almost useless compared to her regularly available abilities.

The Spartan glances over, mostly because he's been wondering about Samus' gun since he first saw it and is interested to note that it doesn't shoot solid slugs. Nor, however, does it fire plasma. It's more like the few Forerunner energy weapons he's run across, but not exactly...

Whatever it is, it's going on the list of things to investigate. Which reminds him, that list had another recent addition. He finishes putting holes in the target for the moment, checking the scope at the bench. Everything seems to be leaning a little to the left, he'll have to do another one to confirm. But that list. Armor was on that list. How do you ask complete strangers about things like that, on a weird ship made of flesh, in a room made out of part of your memory, while firing guns, even after having recently fought giant space worms? This might take him a minute or two to consider.

The Chief flips open a panel in the bench, revealing a smatter of buttons. He presses the one to bring the target holder up to the line so he can swap it out for a fresh one.

Samus looks over to see Chief inspecting his shots. She follows suit, checking her shots. She's a little rustier than she had wanted, but not more than she expected. After all, if she still had the perfect shot with her Paralyzer she wouldn't be here. She finds the panel in her station and gives herself a fresh target.

In the meantime, she offers no explanation for any sort of confusion she causes. Armor or otherwise, unless he asks, Chief won't learn anything.

Curiosity, yay for it!

"What is that," he asks finally, looking at the paralyzer gun.

She glances back over to Chief, holding up the gun slightly.

"Federation Officer emergency pistol," is what she offers as an explanation, "Also known as as a Paralyzer gun."

She realizes that the name holds no significance to anyone outside of her own world, but still uses that description.

"You use it because it's smaller than the cannon?" he asks, that's the best reason he can come up with that makes sense to him without knowing that Samus can't access her suit right now. The Chief knows that if he had his armor back, personally, he probably wouldn't be seen out of it very much anymore.

He sends his target rack back.

This was suddenly becoming dangerous conversation.

"Something like that."

If it was up to Samus, she wouldn't be caught out of her suit on this ship at all either. But as long as she didn't have access to the suit, and others knew about it, she was going to try and hide the fact that she wasn't really able to access it completely right now.

"I'll take your word for it. Energy weapon?" He just wants to clarify, because it's better to know what everybody else has then be saying "And what does that mean?" in the middle of a firefight.

She nods. She wasn't about to go into the great technical details of Federation class weapons when a much simpler explanation would suffice.

Blitzwing quietly-well, as quietly as an alien robot can be-walks into an empty booth, checking the settings on his newfound weapon.

He might as well learn to use it, in case his other weaponry fails him. For whatever reason.

He paused. It's a big room. The firing range that is its main purpose doesn't take up that much space.

Why not stretch his wings a little? He could do with a little more control over his alt-modes, anyway.

He walks out of the booth, and seamlessly transforms with a series of mechanical ch-chnk noises into a plane, then takes off, circling around the higher parts of the room without straying into the firing range.

Hothead doesn't seem to be objecting. Random is giggling happily. Things are good, so far!

Other people practicing on the range, just ignore the jet that's swooping around on the ceiling. You've seen worse (and weirder), probably.

Just behind Blitzwing was Soundwave, lightly watching the mech with that unamusing color in his visor.

He just sat down at the nearest seating place and made Laserbeak transform back to the condor. He laid him on his lap and started stroking his plates.

Blitzwing transformed into robot mode and landed with a clank on the floor, walking over to Soundwave.

He poked Soundwave's shoulder, pouting slightly.
"Vhy are you so serious all ze time?" he queried. "You're as boring as ze mainframe in ze Decepticon base."

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Shooting Practice [Open]

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