<blockquote>http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=12Okatteiru Stormwing.</a> Late afternoon, Tessera, 2, 81379. Private for the first person to join. I'd prefer a male character, the same age or older than Storm. Thanks. Edit: Reserved for JTCC. Edit2: Oops, someone posted, lol. Okay, I'm going to up my limit to two characters, so both Gali and JTCC are welcome to post here. JTCC, since Gali's character is the one on the other side of the door, disregard that detail in my PM, and simply have your character arrive? You can still use the reasons I gave you in my message, if you'd like, of course. <hr> The Thujgthyysaj't Jumda was now almost as familiar to Stormwing as was her very own living room. Though she'd gained her Master's certification in Sharpshooting ages ago, during her brief stint in the space corps, the female did not just leave it at that. How could she? Like any other sport, it took diligent practice to remain in top form, and Storm was woe to lose her fitness with her beloved weaponry. Thus, as she aimed her current gun of choice — her Luger-like model, with its polished wooden grips and thin muzzle — she was completely comfortable and familiarized with her surroundings, as well as her with her target. Firmly gripping her 9 mm model, she braced and aimed, fully prepared for the mild recoil that would press her backwards when she fired. Taking only the briefest moment to line her sights up with the target, a deft white finger then squeezed the trigger, and the bullet spat from the slender muzzle, taking less than a second to soar towards the target at the opposite end of the range. In her booth, Winger was only forced back mildly by the force of the gunfire, and she quickly stiffened. Although a heavy duty pair of headphones muffled the shot's sound, she heard the muffled roar easily enough, and smiled with satisfaction. Dropping the gun from aiming position, she wiped her free hand on her blue jeans, and studied her accuracy. The pendragon-shaped stencil at the other end of the chamber now bore a bullet hole straight though its neck. It was a clean, concise shot, but Stormwing honestly expected nothing less from herself. She'd earned her Master's rank with her Glocks, but had been practicing religiously with her three new handguns, and was quickly getting the hang of each of them. The challenges in their different representations caused her to become very flexible with styles, but she was rapidly learning the flair needed for each gun, and she was proud. So far, she was doing best with the Luger, and as she began to pack up her gear, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. "Hey, are you leaving?" Storm slowly lifted her gaze, while still wiping down her hands and her pistol. Mismatched eyes fell upon a fellow a few booths away, and her white-capped ears twitched. Although the thill was quite capable of protecting herself, especially with a gun in her hand, this strange arden's attentions disconcerted her. What did he want? Her phone number? Or did he recognize her from her recent infamy? Perhaps he just wanted to compliment on her skill. "What?" She asked, her voice guarded, but confident. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" "Heh," Winger said, glad it was the most innocent of her theories on why this stranger was speaking to her. "I used to be in the USR, and was trained as a Sharpshooter." As she spoke, she slid her Luger into a waist holster, and shouldered a duffel bag that had been lying at her feet. It was pretty clear that she was going to leave, so she looked expectantly at the unfamiliar male, hoping he had nothing much more to say. "Wow, just wow," he said, though, obviously wanting to press on in their conversation. "I've never seen a chick fire so..." He saw Stormwing's eyes darken at the 'chick' label, and he back pedaled. "I'm sorry, that was incredibly sexist of me. I'm just so glad when I see a thill performing so well in such fields as Sharpshooting. I'm glad you've bucked the masculine stereotypes and forged on..." He paused, feeling somewhat odd for his lavish comments, an emotion that was apparent by the slight blush that rose beneath his icy white fur. "Anyway, I'm sorry to be keeping you. I just wanted to share that compliment with you. I'm Volaré, by the way. What's your name?" "Okkatteiru Stormwing," the banded thill said, somewhat impatient, and then hoisted her duffel higher. "I've got to go, I have a dinner appointment," she lied, then turned away. "Stormwing..." She heard Volaré mumble behind her, but she was already out of the range and into the front office of the building. She nodded to the officer standing there, thumbs in his pockets, keeping an eye on the shooting range video feeds. "Every time, one of those assholes has to hit on you," he said, his voice solid, an affectionate tint in his eyes. "Tell me about it. See you in a day or so, Remus." She nodded her head to the officer, and then moved towards the doorway. Just as Stormwing was about to put her white hand on the doorknob, twist it, and then exit, the door opened, nearly slamming her in the face. She hastily stepped backwards to avoid it, her brow creasing as she thought about the obviously careless person on the other side of the door. Hadn't they seen the "Proceed Cautiously" sign posted on that side of the door?
Iode hapened to be the one slamming the door in Storm's face. This just proved how clumsy he could be. It took him about three steps afterward to realize he just almost hit Storm he turned toward her. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I'm such a cluts sometimes!" Iode smiled sweetly. He was wearing a pair of guys cargo shorts, and a Jersey with 10 on the back, which could be assumed was his number as his last name was across the top. Across his back was strapped a Winchester Model 70 Stealth Sniper rifle, from the looks of it, brand new. Which most likly ment he had no clue how to use it. He had a very Jock like look to him, and was oviously very proud of it. The top of his boxers could be seen: Jemdrull balls. Just a wee bit obssessed shall we say. He was quite tall, but hansome none the less. He had very strange colors to his fur though: red, black and Yellow. The Yellow was only in his mane and a single strand curled on his forehead, which looked even wierder. Then again, who could blame him, it did look good. "No seriously, are you okay?" He repeated one more time just incase.
Sabata wasn't officially trained to use guns, as he had never taken any classes or such. Although he knew the very basics about firing guns which usually everyone, who had watched another dragon fire a gun, knew, his skills weren't exactly what one would call... superb. He fired guns from time to time when his siblings and he went on some sort of mission for "The Lost" Sabata rolled his eyes at the thought of that organization as he stood 100 feet away from a target and looked at it through the scope on his gun. It was a tacticle sniper, set right now to single shot. He had already gone through 3 entire clip trying to land a hit on the target, but he had a hunch that the last shot of this 4th would be his lucky one as he moved the crosshairs over the head of the target. He squeezed the trigger and soon after, looked at the target to see where his shot had landed. To Sabata's dismay, he had only nicked the top of the dragon's foot. What other factors were there that Sabata didn't yet know? Aim and fire... how could there be anything else? Sabata shook his head as he set the gun down. He should probably have that 4th clip be his last, as he didn't want his siblings getting mad at him for wasting all of the ammo for the gun, especially Kama... Sabata recalled Kama's words... "Don't be wasting the ammunition to this gun. You can go through several clips in a few seconds and its not cheap." Sabata sighed... how could he began to better his accuracy if he didn't practice. Although, he could use a gun with cheap ammo... Ironically, Volare had been watching Sabata. "Looks like you need to better you accuracy before you start using..." Volare looked at Sabata's gun, "a sniper rifle." Volare raised an eye and had a smug grin which made Sabata want to beat the living life out of him then and there... Sabata knew better though... he just glared as he took off the barrel to the gun and put both pieces away in a suitcase. He entered the room in which Storm had narrowly dodged the door. "See you later." spoke Remus in a somewhat friendly voice. Sabata nodded but waited for the two dragons to straighten out their problem before he proceeded out the door...
<blockquote>As the figure on the other side of the door stepped into view, Storm's eyes fell upon a tall, athletic male. Had she not been in a mindset where she wanted to aim a foot at his crotch, the thill would have thought of him as handsome. However, all Stormwing wanted to do was scowl at him, even as he twice repeated, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," she assured him, "But you really need to need to learn to read. That sign on the door is there for a reason." Since the door was open, she wrapped a handle around the door knob, and tugged it open even further. Making sure the "jock" was paying attention, she pointed. Proceed cautiously, it said to those entering the shooting range. "That's not there because bullets will be flying around. It's there because it's a wooden door and there are probably going to be other people on the other side." Seeing now that the arden looked truly sorry for it, Stormwing forced a small smile. "It's okay, though. Just remember for next time. By the way, what kind of gun is that?" She added, pointing a white digit at the weapon strapped around his masculine shoulderblades. Even as the question left her lips, another arden joined their company, exiting the actual shooting range area. Stormwing turned as she heard Remus say a friendly "See you later," and noted the other male's appearance. Although he was doing nothing more than walking, she sensed that he was all business. Had she been a little less assertive herself, she would have stepped out of the way, but as it was, she stood still. Her gaze wandered between the two males, and Remus, whom shrugged at her as if he had nothing to add to the proceedings. Then, trying to be as friendly as she could, she asked, "And you, what kind of gun do you have?" to the newest arden to join the scene. "And what is your name, as well as yours," Winger added, looking once more at the "jock."
Sabata was startled that this dragon would so randomly ask of his name. Yet, he wasn't so started that he couldn't properly say his name. "I'm Sabata of the Teslo family. The gun I carry with me is a Meyer-Wrestlicher UGW. Its what I call, a tacticle sniper, as it can be used to snipe and assault. It has a scope which can magnify objects up to 3X and it can be switched onto fully automatic. Its clips each hold about 20 bullets and each is 9 mm in diameter..." Sabata was surprised to hear even himself speak so much... but that is what happens when you are caught off guard in public. Besides, this dragon at least seemed much more friendly than the other dragon who had criticized Sabata...
<blockquote>JTCC, I'll let this one slide, as it's not a big deal at all, but could we, from this point on, maintain the following posting order?: Kat › Elsa › JTCC. Thank'ee sai. ^^ <hr>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry XD I just have been wanting to put Iode in something for so long I jumped at this</td></tr></table> Iode blushed slightly when she showed him the sign. When he was entering he had been so excited about finnally trying out his new toy he hadn't been paying attention. "This? Uh, its a Winchester Model 70 Stealth, I got it last year and finnally got around to taking it out of the box, the last sniper I had got pummeled when I ran into Nekhalla and a freaky Anubi...I don't remember what happened, but my rifle ended up in a tight ball..." He carefully took it off his back and held it in two hands, it was sleek. The matte finish on it was perfect for stealth fighting, the whole design had the air of being a sneaky weapon for night time warfare. It wasn't the coolest thing on the block though, it had alot to be desired in style. "Oh, and my names Iode. I also have a USMC M40A3 at home, which looks alot cooler then this one."
<blockquote>Not a problem at all, Gali. ^^ I like Iode. <hr> Stormwing was almost surprised when both males gave friendly and detailed introductions, offering not just their names and the title of their choice weaponry, but also simple insights on themselves. She listened carefully to each arden's voice, and to every word that poured forth, and quickly picked up her end of the conversation when silence — blemished only by a small sneeze from the stoic Remus — fell upon them. "Nice," Storm said, though to what she was referring, she didn't know. "Sabata, you strike me as a guy that knows his stuff. Very nice model. And awesome stats. I'd ramble about mine, but I have five guns, four different models, and that would be one long-winded rant. Can't leave any of my babies out," she said with a curt smile, before turning her attention over to Iode. Unlike the Teslo male, he didn't seem as brusque, nor as professional. He seemed more open, more charismatic, with a gregarious personality. "And that... is sweet," the thill said to him, awe apparent in her voice as she reached out a hand to gently stroke the barrel of his gun. "Though, I'd like to see the USMC M40A3... I've always wanted to see one of those things close up. Me, I've got two Glocks, a Desert Eagle, a Colt .45, and my Luger." She tapped her holster. "But I'm still on the market for any more great guns, of course." Once more, silence rent the air, but then Stormwing shook her head, pressed her eyes closed for a moment, then laughed. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Okkatteiru Stormwing, though I prefer to go by the latter rather than the former. So, do you guys come here often? I wouldn't mind watching either of you shoot... we could help each other out, I'm always looking for tips." Storm was just about to suggest they perhaps go get drinks together, talk guns, and that sort of thing — provided neither of the ardens had prior appointments — but just as she parted her lips to voice her invitation, Volaré emerged from the range. The pasty white male was whistling quite shrilly, a noise that hadn't penetrated the soundproof door, but which was shrieking loudly in here. The brown thill frowned at him, but he didn't seem to notice. He waved at her, and winked, saying a cocky, "I know who you are, haha," before maneuvering around the trio and exiting.
Iode smiled, if sniper shooting was a kingdom: he was the king. Ever since he was a kid he had been a sniper shooter, everything from bows and arrows, to paintball guns. He was known to find a good high hiding spot and just sit and wait till someone was in his sights, and then hit them before they knew what hit them. His usual shot was in mid back for most people when it was paintball or something simular, but if he was mad at the person or just feeling evil, a lower or higher shot in front was taken with pin point accuracy. "Okay, sounds good to me. Hey how bout we all go out for drinks afterward and make this a little contest...Loser has to sing Karaoke at the bar with his underwear on his head. Trust me its really funny when it happens." He, at one point, was on the lossing side when he was shooting with Cuesanu. Which was rather sad because she was ten years younger then him. He had gone easy on her not knowing that she had calculated each shot in her head, with complex mathmatical equations she figured out the exact angle she need to get a perfect shot everytime. He lost by 3 on that one and went to the bar and had to sing "Thats what girls do" with Jemdrull boxers on his head. Everyone was laughing at him, luckily nobody took pictures or told Nekhalla or he would have been the laughing stock of Janardan.
OOC: not a problem =P BIC: Sabata couldn't help but surpress a slight grin when Storm mentioned how he seemed to know his stuff. He tried to keep on top of things... It caused him to recall memories of the "old days" before he had met his other siblings and it was just him and Sabato... Why should he linger on the past though? Things had changed. Nowadays, he had to deal with Kama bossing him around to do this and that. Things had only worsened under the leadership of Revol. Blasted, why did the Teslos have to get involved with "The Lost"? Sabata refocused his attention when Iode proposed that the three of them test their accuracy in a simple game. Sabata would have cringed at the thought of wearing underwear on his head if he lost... but not in front of newfound aquantances... "A game would be pleasant," spoke Sabata, "my accuracy when covering allies in battle can be... deadly..." However, Sabata wasn't refering to the shots being deadly to his target... Sabata shook his head an chuckled a bit. "To be honest, I'm not a good shooter. Coming here was to get out and away from the others and to test my accuracy a bit."
<blockquote>Volaré's abrupt interruption and subsequent exit caused Stormwing to blink once, twice, thrice. Over the past few weeks, she'd been practicing how to embrace the Zen master inside of her; she'd harnessed her short temper and pinned it down; she had decided no longer would it be easy to get a rise from her. However, even as the snow white male departed, she felt a snarl curdling in her throat. She had to swallow it, to stay on course, but also because he was gone. There was no point in ruining her path of calm when he whom had inspired turbulence was now gone. Trying to brush away her anger, and attempting to forget Volaré's sexist, cocky existence, Winger focused her attention upon the two friendlier males in her company. Iode was proposing a contest, and Sabata seemed game, even though he admitted that he wasn't the best shot. The thill paused a moment, thinking, then looked at Iode, her eyes meeting his gaze. "What sort of contest, exactly? And right now?" Her feathered tail flicked, and she pondered once more. When she'd asked these ardens to accompany her at the range sometime, she hadn't meant now, and she hadn't meant for it to be a competitive thing. However, now that Iode brought it up, it seemed like a good way to practice. Storm didn't know about these guys, but she performed well under pressure, and could probably whip tail in a honest to goodness, albeit friendly, competition. "Sounds good to me, now or later. But I'm not taking either my pants or underwear off. Sorry, boys. However, the drinks part sounds good to me. Although, no alcohol for me." For a reason either unknown or known to them, depending on whether they realized who she was, and the details of her recent infamy, Stormwing grimaced. "I've just had my fill of alcohol for a lifetime."
Iode smiled, he figured that was agreeable. He quickly came up with the rules in his head. Trying to make it fair for everyone. "Three shots, twenty feet, aiming for the nose of the portrait. Smallest area shots are in wins." Iode smiled at the comment about alcohol, he didn't know anything about her recent encounter. He, being the cluless creature he is, was concerned only with sports and such things. He only once in awhile heard things concerning other outside activities with Nekhalla or Cuesanu, but mostly with Nekhalla it was calling him a dip shit for not knowing it and he ignored it. Though after last time he had started to pay more attention, the wounds from his last encounter were still healing and could be clearly seen across his snout. They ran fairly deep and looked as though someone had dug their claws into his snout and then dragged them, which is basically what Nekhalla did. "I don't drink either, it messes up my game. I'm a Jemdrull player at Janardan, first string too!" Iode loved to brag about his successes as a Jemdrull player. His whole life he had trained to become one. He was a total Jemdrull dork, his boxers just proved that. Shooting was just another training device for Jemdrull, everything he did was basically training just for that one golden sport he loved.
Sabata had a rare grin on his face as he heard of Winger and Iode's opinion about drinking. "Yes..." he spoke, bringing his left hand up to the side of his face as if he was thinking, "none in my family consume alchohol unless it is for medical purposes." Sabata used to suffer from a drinking problem which started back when he was 15. Before he had found his other siblings, he used to go to many parties. Ironically, around the time Sabata reached the age of 20, he began to feel that the parties were empty and fruitless. Yet, he kept going to the parties because of the friends that he hung out with and because of his addiction to the alchohol, which he wanted to break. When he finally met his siblings, they kept him accountable about his drinking. He hadn't tasted alchohol since he had met them... "I'll ready my weapon." said Sabata, rentering the shooting range. He placed his suitcase down on a table and opened it. He began to screw in his barrell...
<blockquote>It seemed the decision had been made. Offering a quick smile at Iode's comment about being a first-string player on his Jemdrull team, Stormwing turned to follow Sabata back into the shooting range. She chose the same booth she'd been using earlier, which was coincidentally on Sabata's left. Without any hesitation, she set her duffel bag down on the floor, and removed her Luger from its place in her waist holster. She quickly reloaded it, and then held it firmly in both hands. It was such a gorgeous model, polished to perfection. Storm's innards almost melted as she admired the piece, its thin barrel, and its wooden finish. It was a grand example of a 9mm pistol, and her touch was loving as she shifted it into her right hand. She wrapped white fingers tightly around it, and put a finger on the trigger. She then raised her arm and began to aim and stance, although she didn't shoot. Not yet. Breaking her attention away from her gun and positioning for a moment, she looked up to study Iode and Sabata. They, too, were preparing. She idly wondered if they would take turns, or if they'd all shoot simultaneously. Doesn't matter to me, Stormwing said to herself, as she slipped on a pair of headphones. All the noises around her became muffled. Once I start shooting, my concentration's unbreakable.
Iode pulled three rounds of shots out of his bag and lodded them into the barrel, he then took the booth on Winger's right. He put down the support stand on his gun and then got the target in his sights. "On your mark, get set GO!!" He shot, aiming at the nose of the target. His first shot hit the target dead on, the nose was now eliminated. Now the trick was to get the bullet thru the same hole. He took aim again and quickly did a wind check and went thru the formula Cuesanu had taught him to calculate how much off he would be and compinsate for it. He had spent months trying to understand the thing. He wasn't very good at anything that required a pencil. He shot his next shot, it was a hair off, it overlapped the first hole. He cursed under his breath and took aim again, firing his third shot, it went thru the first hole nicking the top which enlarged it some. He then hit the motar button to bring it in. "Done!"
Sabata put his gun together and slapped a clip into a bottom compartment. He took aim from his booth at the target. Shooting at such a range made Sabata recall the past. He remembered when he had been sniping at "The Lost", trying to cover his siblings in the middle of some mission. The mission had occured back in Dyo. It was relatively simple: The 5 Teslos were trying to recover Jahhar from the clutches of "The Lost". Sabata and his siblings had managed to do just that. Yet, afterwards, "The Lost" and the Teslos fell into a skirmish. Sabata had been knocked unconscious when the battle had occured, and by the time he had woken up, his siblings had been defeated and taken away by "The Lost". Sabata assumed his siblings were dead, and poured his anger into every last shot he fired at "The Lost". Sabata, swept into his flashback, fired 3 shots into his target as he recalled shooting at "The Lost". The shots didn't hit close to their target, but made a relatively clean, single line on the head of the target. Sabata seemed to snap into reality as his gun went off. Sabata hit the motar to bring his target in. Even if the Teslos and "Lost" had an alliance, Sabata still had a cold fury towards "The Lost" that aged daily like a dark red wine...
<blockquote>She barely heard Iode's cue, but as soon as the six words registered in her mind, her finger was pressing the trigger. The first shot hit the target dead in the nose. If it had been a real pendragon, instead of some stencil, he or she would have been killed upon impact. As it was, the target took the hit with only a flutter, and by the time it stopped moving, she was already pumping shots two and three into its nonexistant brains. All three of her bullets had seared straight through, although the last one was a bit less clean than the others. Even from this distance, she could tell that only the first two had shared the exact same hole; the third had sheared a few centimeters to the right, in what would have been a nostril-tearing spin. "So... who won?" Her words were almost silent, and she quickly pulled the headphones off her ears and let them dangle around her neck. She was breathing a bit heavier than normal, and her pulse had raised by a few beets. But that was a normal thing for her — shooting, and hitting the target with a potentially mortal blow, always brought the onslaught of a righteous adrenaline rush. Without waiting for either of the ardens to answer, she let her mismatched eyes stray over the three targets. All had had clean shots, though not necessarily perfect on target. She wondered whom had the most accurate hits, and whether she would feel ashamed in some deep part of herself if she'd been outdone by these two guys whom lacked the Master's rank in Sharpshooting that she had to her advantage.
Iode looked at the three closely, it was a close race but he decided fairly in the end. "Well it looks like Miss Stormwing is the winner, and I'm sorry Sabata, looks like your singin' Karaoke. I'll buy drinks though, that's not a problem." Iode smiled as he shouldered his rifle and picked up the shells and threw them into his pack. He shook out his mane and looked around carefully to make sure he hadn't left anything. "So which bar should it be?" He adjusted his rifle so the shoulder pad would actually be on his shoulder as in the current spot it was cutting off the circulation to his arm. He adjusted it and looked much relived. He then took his target and folded it up and put it in his back pocket. "Entertainment for a little geek, she loves to reverse engineer problems so I give her these things so she can try and figure out where I was standing and what the wind was. Keeps her busy for, oh, about 10 minutes"
"I'm not sure..." murmered Sabata in a way, almost as if he hadn't put any thought into the matter at all. He took his gun apart and put the pieces back in the carrying case they belonged in. Strangely enough, he wasn't dissapointed that he had to sing. Prehaps it was because he knew he was going to lose and had no expectations, or prehaps it was because he couldn't manage to shake the memories of what had occured nights ago... Then again maybe he could... Sabata's cellphone went off right then. He wasted no time in grabbing it. He opened it and hit the talk button without looking at the number of who called. "Yes?" asked Sabata on his end. He listened for a few moments before a discontenting look appeared apon his face which soon turned to one of utter disgust. He closed the connection with whoever had called and put his cellphone away. "Prank caller," Sabata spoke, regaining his composure somewhat. He hoped it was just a prank caller... Sabata turned his thoughts from the disturbing phone call. "Do you know of any places Stormwing?" Judging by how Stormwing seemed somewhat more confident than others who walked through this area, Sabata presumed that Stormwing came out here fairly often and knew of some place. Then again, he could very easily be wrong... he was just making a guess...
<blockquote>A small flood of warm pleasure filled Stormwing, as Iode announced her the winner. She gave him a small grin, as well as a respectful nod, and bestowed the same gestures upon Sabata. Then, not being one to draw out her own victory or gloat over the losers, she simply stayed quiet and began to pack her gear up once more. With her Luger wiped down and once more in her holster, and her duffel bag's strap taut on her shoulder, Winger turned to face the males once more. Iode was looking ready for anything — and asking which bar the trio should go to. Sabata, on the other hand, was just finishing up a cell phone conversation. When he hung up, he, too, looked expectantly at the thill. They both obviously felt that she knew her way around here best. And she probably did. "Let's go to The Watering Hole. It's close. A little cheesy, and full of crappy-ass memories, but a nice place to get some good drinks." With that, she turned and exited her booth, and headed towards the door between the range and the foyer. She easily opened it and slipped through it, before holding it open for the ardens.
