Special Tactics and Training Building

[Broomhandle45]

This is the 'there is nothing going on for my character to do, but I want them to do something' thread. Explore a character relationship-just try not to make it into full blown sex, some teasing and touching is fine, but keep all the real action somewhere else, Pms if you want? Just give the implications, I don't want this turning into a sex roleplay. Everything you do here will be considered relevant for your characters after all. Anything and everything can be done if you want to be.


--
Located just downtown of East Mega City on the eastern seaboard of the United States, STAT is the de-facto facility for warfighters and their teams, covering roughly the size of four football fields with shooting ranges, swimming pools, gyms and simtech authorized weapons dealers for every need of a team or a free agent looking to keep the skills sharp.

Naturally, this place also houses a smaller arena that is designed more for off-season skirmishes, but the occasional crowd is drawn to see their favorites hard at work. Scouts and managers are always milling about, as STAT serves more than just training, it can also house more than a few minor league teams to get them started, as much of their training and matches will take place around the STAT building
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Name/Nickname:Vanessa Kinser
Statistics:MUS:Fair AIM:Good FIT:Great INT:Good CS:Fair CHM:Mediocre
Attire:Jeans, T-Shirt, Combat boots
Weapons:1911A1
Location:Shooting Range
Tagging:Anyone

---

A smooth glide of the hand and the 7 round magazine was seated as Vanessa tugged back on the slide as it jerked forward with a satisfying snap. She settled herself into a proper stance and took aim, tapping the trigger as the gun recoiled smoothly in her hands as the simtech round bounced against the holographic target on the chest. The girl was sighted in well today, it seemed..that was good.

With a soft readjustment and a small smirk to her lips, Vannesa's pistol roared through the six remaining shots as the target flared up in bright red across the chest and one that winged him on the head. She lowered the pistol a moment, dropping the magazine out to set it on the table with her .45. Hm, she pulled a bit on that last shot..guess she was getting a little rusty without some line of work to keep her busy. With nobody looking as far as she could tell, about the only thing Vannesa could do for work is run security around the complex and shoot. Which got old, fairly fast..but what could be done about that?

nothing Vanessa replied somewhat bitterly to herself, but that's how it was at this point.Teams get stripped away, new talent gets put in..old players mill around until something good comes up. Even new talent was getting that way.

Ah well, she had money to shoot..that was good enough for now.

 

[Generalfoley]

Name/Nickname: Joseph Jakosik/ Irish
Statistics:MUS: Fair AIM: Great FIT: Fair INT: Great CS: Good CHM: Mediocre
Attire: T- Shirt, Jeans, Sneakers, Hat
Weapons: Beretta M9A1
Location: Shooting Range
Tagging: Anyone

---

((Err, quick question: Do our characters know each other yet?))

Irish hummed a happy tune as he entered the shooting range. He liked being a "Warfighter". It was expensive, of course, but a few programming gigs on the side helped a bit with that. Not all of it, of course, but enough. Like ammo. He scratched at his beard as he walked up to one of the shooting stalls, entering his Warfighter code in the side panel for the holographic target to pop up in place. He put his case on the counter, opening it and pulling out the magazine and his pistol.

He loved this pistol. The Beretta M9A1, with reliability of an ox and quite the kick, even for a nine millimeter. It'd pack quite a punch. Well, in reality anyway. It wouldn't make much of a difference in the Wargames unless someone brought real ammunition into the fight, but that was highly illegal, not to mention irresponsible. He loaded his magazine with the Simtech munitions, just noticing the other person in the shooting range. He and her were the only ones here, but he paid her no real attention.

He loaded his magazine into his pistol and pulled his slide back to chamber the round. The racking sound of the slide caused him to smile a bit, before he took on a very serious expression. He needed to concentrate. While he had good aim to begin with, he didn't want to jinx anything by laying off practice.

He pulled the trigger once twice in quick succession, letting two rounds fly to their target. Two holes appeared close together, and with that, he let loose the rest of his magazine, pulling with tight groupings in several areas around the chest and three rounds in the head.

He looked over at the other target in the area and nodded his head. She was a good shot, even if she winged the head. "Impressive," He said to himself, almost a little too loudly.

 

[Karameida]

Name/Nickname: Ariana Lang/ Ari
Statistics: MUS: Fair AIM: Great FIT: Good INT: Good CS: Great CHM: Terrible
Attire: Black half shirt over-vest/coat. Skorts and calf high boots.Visual
Weapons: MP9 and a pistol
Location: Shooting Range
Tagging: Joseph and Vanessa
____________________________________________________________
​

Ari walked into the building or more accurately the shooting range portion of the building. Stopping in the doorway she scanned the lines, it wasn't as active as it usually was but that suited her fine. Walking over to a locker she shoved her bags into it. reaching into the side pocket of one of her bags she pulled out a small pistol "Not my usual but, it'll do for today..." she murmured to herself. Turning around she closed the locker with her foot and walked into a vacant spot. Entering in her code she saw the projection pop up and wrinkled her nose a little. It always seemed a little funny to her, that she was shooting holograms...especially ones that didn't move. Shrugging she decided to have a little fun with it, grabbing her pistol she frowned a little. It felt odd compared to her usual choice mostly because it was so much smaller. Shrugging once more she raised the gun and pointed at the target.

Bang

Bang

She shot two practice rounds, and smiled nodding to herself when both shoulders lit up. The gun wasn't as bad as she'd thought it would be. She'd been carrying this pistol as long as she'd been carrying her MP9 but, she had never once picked up her pistol. She decided it was time she learned how well she could use it. Re-positioning herself she took aim and let off the rest of her rounds in quick succession. Putting her gun down she looked at the target and smiled. She'd made a very nice cross on the body, but a few were a little off. Sighing she leaned back "Well....I guess I do need a little more practice with this gun...." she said picking the pistol back up and turning it over in her hand.

She looked over at the other ladies and guy's and let out a soft whistle "Nice." she said. She felt a warm blush spread over her cheeks, their shots were really good and she felt silly coming in here with them and shooting off her gun like a novice. Even though her shots were anything but, a novice. You could tell very clearly that she'd done a cross, the only problem was the one that should have been in the forehead ended up going through his left eye and the one that should have been dead center chest was a little closer to his stomach. Putting the gun down she shook her head slightly and wrinkled her nose a little once more. She hoped it didn't look like she was showing off, feeling slightly embarrassed she cleared her throat "Nice shots you two..." she said with a little smile.

She wondered if she should practice a little more with the gun and perhaps a little more seriously or just leave and go for that nice swim that she'd really come here for.

 

[Broomhandle45]

Name/Nickname:Vanessa Kinser
Statistics:MUS:Fair AIM:Good FIT:Great INT:Good CS:Fair CHM:Mediocre
Attire:Jeans, T-Shirt, Combat boots
Weapons:1911A1
Location:Shooting Range
Tagging:Anyone

---

"Thanks," She replied after a moment, regarding the both of them as she rolled the target in. She had a few guesses as to why they were here too, but she decided to keep quiet a moment as she admired her handy work before speaking again: "Take it you two aren't hired either?" She asked, dusting off the target faintly. "No work?" Pitiful as it was, here she was loping around with the rest of the dregs. Oh well, that was the way of things some days.

 

[Generalfoley]

Name/Nickname: Joseph Jakosik/ Irish
Statistics:MUS: Fair AIM: Great FIT: Fair INT: Great CS: Good CHM: Mediocre
Attire: T- Shirt, Jeans, Sneakers, Hat
Weapons: Beretta M9A1
Location: Shooting Range
Tagging: Anyone

---

"Take it you two aren't hired either?" Irish shrugged, bringing his target in. "No work?" "I'm just waiting for someone to put me in a team. I'm guessing you're doing the same?" It was a sad fact, but it was a true one. Them freelancers weren't ever put into a team straight off the bat, they had to be brought in by a talent manager and put into a team, and even then, it was sometimes a temporary job until their player got better. Irish looked at his target with pride, before noticing the spaces of the grouping were off, more spaced out than they usually were. "Aw shit," He said to himself, taking out his tool kit from his gun case and quickly tweaked the sights on his pistol. He didn't like being off target, even if it was a little bit. Good sights were the difference between winning and losing in their profession.

He loaded another magazine into his pistol and reset his target, pushing it to the twenty five yard mark. It was the usual target distance between him and enemies, he had learned. Interesting. He aimed his weapon, letting loose as soon as he had the target in his sights. He pulled the trigger rapidly, putting half his clip in the head of the target and the rest in the "lethal" parts of the torso, mainly the chest and the center of the stomach.

"There we go," Irish said to himself. "Still, it's only a matter of time until we get picked up." He looked over at the other girl's target. He had noticed her unfamiliarity with the gun, and handed her his tool kit. "You probably need to adjust the sights."

 

[Karameida]

Name/Nickname: Ariana Lang/ Ari
Statistics: MUS: Fair AIM: Great FIT: Good INT: Good CS: Great CHM: Terrible
Attire: Black half shirt over-vest/coat. Skorts and calf high boots.Visual
Weapons: MP9 and a pistol
Location: Shooting Range
Tagging: Joseph and Vanessa
____________________________________________________________
​

Ari listened awhile to what was going on, she didn't mind complimenting others works or talking to herself buuuuuut, when it came to actual conversations and not comments she preferred to keep her mouth shut...usually anyways.

"Yeah...." she murmured before looking back down to the gun in her hand. Shaking her head she looked back at the target and pursed her lips "A little practice.....won't hurt..." she thought. "Though...from what I've heard several spots in some teams have opened up..." she said trailing off "So it's only a matter of time before either one of you gets a spot." she finished with a little shrug. She knew it was just gossip about the newly opened spots and she wasn't usually one to indulge in such things but hey, who knew right? It could be true. It was silent again until the guy lit up his target. Ari watched and raised her brow as half [or what she assumed was half] his clip tore through the target. Shaking her head she brought up a new target of her own. Turning her head to the guy she looked down at the little kit he offered her "Hm....perhaps...it's just been sitting at the bottom of my bag since I got it..." she said with a little smile. Taking the bag she nodded "thanks" she said.

"ahhh hah..." she said after a few minutes of fiddling with her gun. "Well...I guess now all mistakes are just my fault now." she murmured to herself as she re-assembled her gun. Handing the tool kit back to the guy she smiled and thanked him again. Lining her gun back up she re-positioned her stance and took aim. Her shots were slow and deliberate, hey she was learning to use a new gun, might as well learn to do it right, right? Shooting off her last round she set the gun down and smiled, she had made a very nice smiley face on the head of the target. Turning her head to the side slightly she eyed it and nodding. The shots weren't off and the lines were straight [well as straight as one can get with a gun.]

Shrugging she smiled content with herself, it was a little silly but hey, she was practicing and things had been far to serious for her liking the past few weeks."Ah well gotta lighten up somehow." she said brushing some stray strands of hair from her face.

 

[Broomhandle45]

Example:

Name/Nickname:Vanessa Kinser
Statistics:MUS:Fair AIM:Good FIT:Great INT:Good CS:Fair CHM:Mediocre
Attire:T-Shirt, Jeans, Combat Boots
Weapons:1911A1
Location:Firing Range
Tagging: Anyone

---

"People look, that's about it." Vanessa remarked dryly, fingers drumming against the stand as she watched the two in minor amusement. They took all kinds of course, but they certainly didn't have the look of military experience. Must have hopped in on the thrill of it and made their way to the national level. But hey, whatever it took regardless..everyone needed money and this could be a very lucrative field. "Course, it's the off-season..the harder part is finding someone who is looking for a team." she murmured, tapping her finger against her chin in mild thought.

"Take it you two are out of luck with friends?"

 

[The Waiting Disaster]

Name/Nicname: Loyal Bancouer / Fossoyeur.
Statistics
MUS: Good AIM: Superb FIT: Great INT: Fine CS: Great CHM: Poor
Attire: T-shirt, jeans, and running shoes.
Weapons: Five Seven Tactical semiautomatic.
Location: Firing range.
Tagging: Anyone.

------------------------

The first order of business when he had woken up that morning had been his work out. A nice three mile run in the complex's gym to start, about thirty minutes spent in the weight room, about thirty minutes in the pool, and an hour of cool-down exercises to make a relatively easy workout for the morning. After that he had gone to practice some of his hand-to-hand combatives, working on keeping his skills sharp in the down time while the former Legionnaire waited to catch a recruiter's eye, and now was the final task of the day before getting something to eat. Duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Loyal had walked in to the firing range looking like he felt like he owned the place, paying little mind to the three other warfighters off by the rows at first as he had found a locker to put his equipment in. Pulling on his shoulder holster, he had placed the Five Seven neatly under his left arm, grabbed three magazines of ammunition, and had headed over to the range. As if by coincedence, the range he picked placed himself between the young man and the older woman -- who looked vaguely familiar. Venessa-something? He couldn't remember exactly. The only reason he had paid her any mind was when he had first mistaken her private security career for work as a PMC like what he had done in the past.

Nobody of interest.

As far as the three and their conversation went, he seemed to pay them little mind. He brought up the target, 50 meters away, loaded a magazine, the slide clicked in to place, and he took aim. Unlike the other three, his shots were not so rapid, yet anybody who said he was inexperienced would have been a fool. Rapid pairs, though timed apart long enough to be slightly noticable since he was only training, he proceeded to empty the magazine. Rather than aim for the head, as most might, his training in the Legion shined through, and his shots hit in the upper center mass. Had he been using, say, a sniper rifle, he likely would have been aiming for the Sniper's Triangle, but this was not the case. Nor did he bring his Famas today, preferring to keep it relatively simple this morning. As he finished the first round of ammunition, he had already begun to retrieve the second, and had dropped the first moments before sliding the second home. Yet he left one round in the chamger, making it unnecessary to operate the slide manually, and allowing an almost seemless transition to the next string of two-round taps. With the second magazine expended, he dropped it from the weapon, let the slide forward, and held the weapon at the low ready ahead of him while he examined the target from the current distance.

"Hmm." If anything, the simple sound seemed to be a rather disastisfied one.

He brought the target in for closer inspection, brow furrowed.

"Merde!" The profanity was muttered, yet harsh, as he observed his work.

It was obvious he was clearly no amatuer, a man of combat experience beyond what the younger of the trio could probably have by the looks of them if he judged them correctly, but it was also obvious that he was in no way pleased with the groupings in the upper chest that he had achieved.

 

[Generalfoley]

Name/Nickname: Joseph Jakosik/ Irish
Statistics:MUS: Fair AIM: Great FIT: Fair INT: Great CS: Good CHM: Mediocre
Attire: T- Shirt, Jeans, Sneakers, Hat
Weapons: Beretta M9A1
Location: Shooting Range
Tagging: Anyone

---

"Take it you two are out of luck with friends?" Irish nodded, begrudgingly. "I did have a friend in Sweden who was interested, but after his first match, he couldn't take another." He looked at the other two. "Not that he couldn't take the pressure, but he... took to it a bit too much. I had him taken out, both for his safety and mine. Then there was my friend in Florida, who was a hell of a shot, but he backed down when I offered to start something up. Which is understandable, he's finally found his niche now that SimTech's popped up." Irish recieved his kit back and nodded in thanks, before proceeding to take it apart. The shots were still off, it was either something within the gun or he was getting that tiny bit of rust on his shoulders. He didn't like getting rusty.

"Then there were some of my friends back in Phoenix," He said, the fully disassembled pistol laying before him. "But they turned me down too. Had doubts about the safety of the professional league SimTech rounds rather than the MilSim paintball circuit. Admittedly, I have such doubts myself, but until something better comes along," Irish picked up the trigger assembly and looked at it closely. "Than I'll deal with it."

He heard the swear from the man next to him, looking over at his target. He had seen them fire. He had seen similar shooters, with similar results at a gun range when they didn't get as accurate as they were hoping them to be. Groupings were not exactly... bad. Hell, they were great. But... It was none of his business to pry. It was none of his business to pry. It was none of his-

"It could be the rifling." 'Oh God Dammit.' Irish thought to himself. "Either it's the positioning of the rifling, in which it could be adjusted, or it's that your Five-seveN has been firing too many SimTech Rounds, in which you may need to get a new barrel."

Irish pulled out an old gun barrel. Correction. It looked like it was an old gun barrel, if it had met a sledge hammer. It had visible cracks all along the length, and the rifling inside was deteriorated as if acid had been peppered on the inside. "SimTech slugs mess with the rifling still. Doesn't degrade them as much anymore since the third beta, but it does weaken the metal and it does degrade the rifling, unless proper maintenance is used."

Irish looked at his own weapon before putting it back together. There wasn't much wrong with it, it was him. "If I were you, I'd go see a gunsmith, check the barrel. If it's good to go, then you can mix up a small batch of FauxMinoRep-Oil with a shot of the real stuff and bacon grease," He looked at the man. "The enzymes in the bacon grease act a little bit like stem cells with the MinoRep stuff, not making more, but making it more adaptable to it's purpose, which is protecting against the deterioration of SimTech. It doesn't repair like it says, but it will save you a few hundred dollars to get a new barrel. Just use it sparingly, you'll wanna use it for your other weapon, if you have one."

Irish sighed, looking at his reassembled pistol. He was itching for at least some action.

He knew a small team was coming in half an hour or so, an advanced level training match, and he was itching for a fight. Besides, four freelancers? Maybe they'd win.

"You guys wanna go a run against a team coming in thirty minutes or so for an advanced practice match?" He looked around, looking at the two girls - What were their names? Ven-something and Ari... maybe... The other one was Loy-something, he knew it. "It wouldn't hurt to dust off the cobwebs we all know we're feeling, and who knows? We're all looking for teams... Well, I don't know about you," He said, nodding towards the other man. "But maybe a quad of freelancers can win against some Advance punks?" He looked around. There was a reason why they didn't know their names yet, they hadn't introduced themselves.

"Well that was rude of me," Irish said, before stepping forward and giving a theatrical and... rather uncharacteristic bow. Quite the dork he was.

"Joseph Jakosik, Engineer Extraordinaire, at your service," He looked up. "But everyone calls me Irish for some odd reason." He smiled, standing straight up. "I apologize for not introducing myself before, but I didn't have an idea quite like this before either."

 

[The Waiting Disaster]

Name/Nicname: Loyal Bancouer / Fossoyeur.
Statistics
MUS: Good AIM: Superb FIT: Great INT: Fine CS: Great CHM: Poor
Attire: T-shirt, jeans, and running shoes.
Weapons: Five Seven Tactical semiautomatic.
Location: Firing range.
Tagging: Anyone.

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