![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-gambit.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsAdrienne and North do a little impromptu weapons training.
The makeshift camp boasted a small armory, mostly packed in crates and carted around with them. Many of the mutants had powers that didn't translate well into direct combat, and had armed themselves with weapons taken from the Magistrates that they'd defeated. Most of the gear was British in origin; bullpup designed rifles and SIG Sauer variants. Some of the resistance members were taking target practice, showing a diverse range of skill as they fired at makeshift paper targets and tin cans.
After having tugged on a pair of gloves she'd gotten from one of the resistance members Adrienne perused the crates of weapons, pausing over each crate like a woman shopping for a new car. Having her powers back was nice in the sense that she was no longer constantly rubbing her hands together, but the downside was that she had no hand-coating substance so she was back to wearing gloves so that she didn't read everything she touched. "Hmm... not shiny enough," she mused aloud as she stared at some of the weapons, her defensive mechanism of inappropriate attempts at humour still firmly in place. "Ooo, how about you? I like you, you're extra shiny!" She picked a Sig out of the crate and cradled it in her arms, cooing over it like it was a baby.
“Vanessa would call that a little girl gun,” David remarked, amused at Adrienne’s antics despite himself. He reached around her, slipping the handgun from her arms and briefly inspecting the semi-automatic pistol. It was clean, in decent condition and not loaded. He offered it back to her, grip-first and barrel pointing to the floor, not really up for giving a lecture on gun safety. “Not a bad gun, though. It’s a P238 model, called Tactical Laser, if memory serves. Mostly because it has an integrated laser. 9mm short caliber.”
He lifted the magazine from the crate and waved it at her. “Just 6 rounds per mag,” he informed her, shifting so that he was leaning against the crate with his weight lifted off his busted knee. “How fast can you reload a gun?”
Adrienne flinched at David's mention of Vanessa, having forgotten for a brief moment just how worried she was for her best friend... well, for everyone, really. The fact that she'd forgotten to be worried made her feel guilty, like she was reverting back into her old self, concerned only with self-preservation. "I'm not that bad with my hands, but I don't think I'd be very fast," she admitted. "The gloves make everything a bit more awkward, too. I'm used to the auto-loading Colt M1911, honestly, or the pre-set trigger, semi-automatics. Do we have anything like that?" She looked up at David and made a sympathetic face- he did not look very healthy at the moment. "You look brutal."
“You’ve seen better days yourself,” was David’s immediate wry response, though he cracked a slight smile – the first in days – and replaced the magazine. “Splayed out on the floor and all.”
He limped over to another crate, and drew out another Sig. “P250, Full size. A gun favoured by military-types so not quite as shiny for le principessa. But it’s a comfortable enough weight and trigger pull, semi-automatic and you’re used to 9mms, I assume. 17 rounds.” The marksman spotted another gun and snorted, stretching over to retrieve it with his uninjured hand before offering both pistols to Adrienne. “It’s like a British Sig Sauer showroom.”
“This baby here, is a P226, Tactical Operations. If I had to use a Sig, I’d pick a 226. They’re used in competitions, mostly, and for good reason. Light, easy trigger pull. Your 9mm mags can come in 10 or 20 rounds. And best of all?” David leaned in, and smirked at Adrienne. “There are shiny models in this series. So keep your eyes peeled.”
Adrienne's eyes widened in mock horror and she clutched a hand to her heart at his comment about her seeing better days herself. "Did you just insult a former model's looks? Oh, you're taking your life in your hands there, buddy. And hey, I was only splayed on the floor because you're sneaky fast like a fucking ninja!" She preened a little at being called a princess, though not sure if he meant it as an insult. "The princess likes her shinies, strappo, what's wrong with that?" she posed, taking both guns from him. "What's the rounds situation looking like?" Crates of guns weren't going to be much good without a hell of a lot of ammo.
“Nothing’s wrong with shiny,” David shrugged, all casual-like as he grabbed a cartridge for each of the guns and handed them over. Were he anyone else, he may have rolled his eyes at Adrienne’s dramatics, but as it were, he merely waved it off – she knew he was referring to the general bruising and swelling she had ‘earned’ for mouthing off at the guards. “Just make sure I’m the only fucking ninja you let push your royal self to the floor. And I don’t quite know how Jenny’s team managed to pool all of these together, but this is a decently stocked armory. So while I won’t suggest wasting any, I’m not too worried about ammo either.”
The marksman gestured at the room in general as he spoke, and did a quick, admiring scan of the room as he made his way to the far end of the room. They would have to ask Jenny exactly how they had accomplished this, David decided, even as he noted two pistols he wanted to take a closer look at. He would probably never get his old set of Heckler & Koch handguns back, and that seriously irked him.
“Besides, don’t you think the situation may call for a little bit more… firepower?”
Adrienne checked the safety and shoved one gun in her waistband, smirking at David, hoping he appreciated her attempt to be gangsta. "Oh, I'm all for firepower, don't get me wrong, I just wanted to make sure we had enough to go around." She loaded the gun in her hand, then shoved it into her waistband to load the first. "Because I really, really want to make these assholes feel pain for messing up my face." And kidnapping them, and hurting her students. But she figured that much went without saying.
She turned and fired at one of the paper targets, firing six shots with each gun. Of course she couldn't put them back into her pants once she'd fired them so she set the one on the ground to fire the second and then picked both back up again. "You know, speaking of you being the only fucking ninja who pushes me to the floor, I haven't trained with anyone in a while. Self defense? Could you and I work something out once we play cavalry and rescue everyone and get home?" She handed the 238 back to him. "I think I'll stick to the 226."
“Sure,” the precog agreed easily enough. “In fact, we should see if we have time to spar before you run off to give them a piece of your mind.” David’s right trigger finger had been splinted and he had been given orders to rest up his knee, but quite frankly, he did not have Adrienne’s confidence that they would make it back to the US as whole bodies. He prudently kept that thought to himself. “The last man I ran into with a gun in his waistband was a Spanish gangster in 1993,” he informed her instead, unloading the 238 and placing it aside. “Got him to do everything I wanted just by grabbing the grip and threatening to shoot his dick off.”
A corner of his lips curled up a fraction as he turned away from her, and he made a mental note to see if they could grab holsters. Adrienne’s impromptu target practice had drawn curious looks from the resistance members, but at least David now knew that she could handle firearms just fine. “By firepower, I actually meant these.” He gestured at the crates further from the entrance that contained a number of larger guns – rifles, mostly, though there were a few submachine guns and even what looked like a sniper rifle. “Ever used one?”
"Sparring would be great," Adrienne nodded, grinning. "You're going to be working with Layla, too, right? I'm glad," she added, since she didn't want him to think she thought his sparring with Layla was a bad thing, "I worry about her, so knowing she's practicing with you makes me feel a little better." She stared at the rifles and larger weapons for a moment. "Rifles, yes. Submachine guns, no," she shook her head.
“Layla and whoever else wants me to,” David nodded, limping over to pull a rifle from the crate and inspecting it. He did this a couple of times until he found one that he was satisfied with. “She’s got some interesting powers going on. But some of the other kids seem to need to let off some steam as well.” Besides which, sparring gave them something to focus on other than the nightmare they were in.
“The Magistrates’ weapons are mostly British,” he noted with a faint frown as he filed away that piece of information, offering the assault rifle to Adrienne with the magazine. “These are SA80s, pretty much the standard issue service rifle in the UK military. I haven’t fired one before, but they are supposed to have become pretty reliable. I think this particular one is a L86 LSW. It’s good for precision and it can fire single shots or automatic fire. The mag contains 30 rounds and it probably can’t be belt-fed.”
David weighed the magazine in his right hand and looked consideringly at Adrienne. “Do you know how to field strip a rifle?”
"Not that one," Adrienne answered. "Vee showed me how to take apart and clean a hunting rifle once, but they don't look at all the same. Except, I can do this..." she took off a glove and touched the rifle, Reading the beginning of its timeline to see how it was constructed, watching it be taken apart, cleaned, and put back together several times. "And now I know," she grinned at David when she pulled her hand away.
Arching a brow, David nodded, impressed. “That’s useful,” he commented with a smile. “Have you learned how to use it too?”
"Unfortunately, no." Adrienne made a face. "'Gonna show me, or is it a better use of your time to leave me with the pistol and show someone else?"
“Would be a waste if I didn’t,” the precog shrugged. “Especially if you’re going to be relying heavily on firearms in a combat situation.” And who knew what kind of situations they would soon be finding themselves in. David shifted over to the next crate and drew out another rifle for himself. Somehow, he misjudged its length and the base snagged briefly against the side of the wooden crate and, with his balance already off-kilter, stumbled as his knee gave way.
He was saved from falling face-first only by grabbing the first thing he could reach. A wave of dizziness accompanied a shiver that wrecked his body, and it took a while before he could pull himself upright.
Adrienne set her weapons down and tried to help David up. "Whoa! You okay? You really... don't look that good, Ninja." He was white as a sheet. "C'mon, you should go lie down. Lemme help you."
“I’m fine.” Except he clearly was not. He patted Adrienne’s hand and stood fully, offering her as reassuring a smile as he could. “It’ll be some time before I regain full mobility with my leg.” The not-quite-lie tripped off his tongue easily and he gently disengaged himself from her, turning back to retrieve the rifle. “Let’s finish our little tour. Then we’ll see if the princess can play with bigger guns.”
Adrienne stared at him for several moments, as if determining whether she should voice the questions that were beginning to form, or wanted to take his feet out from under him just to have the satisfaction of knocking him onto his back. She finally settled on picking up the pistol she had now claimed as her own and smirking at him. "Because despite what people say, it is, in fact, the size that counts, not how you use it?" she suggested innocently.
The makeshift camp boasted a small armory, mostly packed in crates and carted around with them. Many of the mutants had powers that didn't translate well into direct combat, and had armed themselves with weapons taken from the Magistrates that they'd defeated. Most of the gear was British in origin; bullpup designed rifles and SIG Sauer variants. Some of the resistance members were taking target practice, showing a diverse range of skill as they fired at makeshift paper targets and tin cans.
After having tugged on a pair of gloves she'd gotten from one of the resistance members Adrienne perused the crates of weapons, pausing over each crate like a woman shopping for a new car. Having her powers back was nice in the sense that she was no longer constantly rubbing her hands together, but the downside was that she had no hand-coating substance so she was back to wearing gloves so that she didn't read everything she touched. "Hmm... not shiny enough," she mused aloud as she stared at some of the weapons, her defensive mechanism of inappropriate attempts at humour still firmly in place. "Ooo, how about you? I like you, you're extra shiny!" She picked a Sig out of the crate and cradled it in her arms, cooing over it like it was a baby.
“Vanessa would call that a little girl gun,” David remarked, amused at Adrienne’s antics despite himself. He reached around her, slipping the handgun from her arms and briefly inspecting the semi-automatic pistol. It was clean, in decent condition and not loaded. He offered it back to her, grip-first and barrel pointing to the floor, not really up for giving a lecture on gun safety. “Not a bad gun, though. It’s a P238 model, called Tactical Laser, if memory serves. Mostly because it has an integrated laser. 9mm short caliber.”
He lifted the magazine from the crate and waved it at her. “Just 6 rounds per mag,” he informed her, shifting so that he was leaning against the crate with his weight lifted off his busted knee. “How fast can you reload a gun?”
Adrienne flinched at David's mention of Vanessa, having forgotten for a brief moment just how worried she was for her best friend... well, for everyone, really. The fact that she'd forgotten to be worried made her feel guilty, like she was reverting back into her old self, concerned only with self-preservation. "I'm not that bad with my hands, but I don't think I'd be very fast," she admitted. "The gloves make everything a bit more awkward, too. I'm used to the auto-loading Colt M1911, honestly, or the pre-set trigger, semi-automatics. Do we have anything like that?" She looked up at David and made a sympathetic face- he did not look very healthy at the moment. "You look brutal."
“You’ve seen better days yourself,” was David’s immediate wry response, though he cracked a slight smile – the first in days – and replaced the magazine. “Splayed out on the floor and all.”
He limped over to another crate, and drew out another Sig. “P250, Full size. A gun favoured by military-types so not quite as shiny for le principessa. But it’s a comfortable enough weight and trigger pull, semi-automatic and you’re used to 9mms, I assume. 17 rounds.” The marksman spotted another gun and snorted, stretching over to retrieve it with his uninjured hand before offering both pistols to Adrienne. “It’s like a British Sig Sauer showroom.”
“This baby here, is a P226, Tactical Operations. If I had to use a Sig, I’d pick a 226. They’re used in competitions, mostly, and for good reason. Light, easy trigger pull. Your 9mm mags can come in 10 or 20 rounds. And best of all?” David leaned in, and smirked at Adrienne. “There are shiny models in this series. So keep your eyes peeled.”
Adrienne's eyes widened in mock horror and she clutched a hand to her heart at his comment about her seeing better days herself. "Did you just insult a former model's looks? Oh, you're taking your life in your hands there, buddy. And hey, I was only splayed on the floor because you're sneaky fast like a fucking ninja!" She preened a little at being called a princess, though not sure if he meant it as an insult. "The princess likes her shinies, strappo, what's wrong with that?" she posed, taking both guns from him. "What's the rounds situation looking like?" Crates of guns weren't going to be much good without a hell of a lot of ammo.
“Nothing’s wrong with shiny,” David shrugged, all casual-like as he grabbed a cartridge for each of the guns and handed them over. Were he anyone else, he may have rolled his eyes at Adrienne’s dramatics, but as it were, he merely waved it off – she knew he was referring to the general bruising and swelling she had ‘earned’ for mouthing off at the guards. “Just make sure I’m the only fucking ninja you let push your royal self to the floor. And I don’t quite know how Jenny’s team managed to pool all of these together, but this is a decently stocked armory. So while I won’t suggest wasting any, I’m not too worried about ammo either.”
The marksman gestured at the room in general as he spoke, and did a quick, admiring scan of the room as he made his way to the far end of the room. They would have to ask Jenny exactly how they had accomplished this, David decided, even as he noted two pistols he wanted to take a closer look at. He would probably never get his old set of Heckler & Koch handguns back, and that seriously irked him.
“Besides, don’t you think the situation may call for a little bit more… firepower?”
Adrienne checked the safety and shoved one gun in her waistband, smirking at David, hoping he appreciated her attempt to be gangsta. "Oh, I'm all for firepower, don't get me wrong, I just wanted to make sure we had enough to go around." She loaded the gun in her hand, then shoved it into her waistband to load the first. "Because I really, really want to make these assholes feel pain for messing up my face." And kidnapping them, and hurting her students. But she figured that much went without saying.
She turned and fired at one of the paper targets, firing six shots with each gun. Of course she couldn't put them back into her pants once she'd fired them so she set the one on the ground to fire the second and then picked both back up again. "You know, speaking of you being the only fucking ninja who pushes me to the floor, I haven't trained with anyone in a while. Self defense? Could you and I work something out once we play cavalry and rescue everyone and get home?" She handed the 238 back to him. "I think I'll stick to the 226."
“Sure,” the precog agreed easily enough. “In fact, we should see if we have time to spar before you run off to give them a piece of your mind.” David’s right trigger finger had been splinted and he had been given orders to rest up his knee, but quite frankly, he did not have Adrienne’s confidence that they would make it back to the US as whole bodies. He prudently kept that thought to himself. “The last man I ran into with a gun in his waistband was a Spanish gangster in 1993,” he informed her instead, unloading the 238 and placing it aside. “Got him to do everything I wanted just by grabbing the grip and threatening to shoot his dick off.”
A corner of his lips curled up a fraction as he turned away from her, and he made a mental note to see if they could grab holsters. Adrienne’s impromptu target practice had drawn curious looks from the resistance members, but at least David now knew that she could handle firearms just fine. “By firepower, I actually meant these.” He gestured at the crates further from the entrance that contained a number of larger guns – rifles, mostly, though there were a few submachine guns and even what looked like a sniper rifle. “Ever used one?”
"Sparring would be great," Adrienne nodded, grinning. "You're going to be working with Layla, too, right? I'm glad," she added, since she didn't want him to think she thought his sparring with Layla was a bad thing, "I worry about her, so knowing she's practicing with you makes me feel a little better." She stared at the rifles and larger weapons for a moment. "Rifles, yes. Submachine guns, no," she shook her head.
“Layla and whoever else wants me to,” David nodded, limping over to pull a rifle from the crate and inspecting it. He did this a couple of times until he found one that he was satisfied with. “She’s got some interesting powers going on. But some of the other kids seem to need to let off some steam as well.” Besides which, sparring gave them something to focus on other than the nightmare they were in.
“The Magistrates’ weapons are mostly British,” he noted with a faint frown as he filed away that piece of information, offering the assault rifle to Adrienne with the magazine. “These are SA80s, pretty much the standard issue service rifle in the UK military. I haven’t fired one before, but they are supposed to have become pretty reliable. I think this particular one is a L86 LSW. It’s good for precision and it can fire single shots or automatic fire. The mag contains 30 rounds and it probably can’t be belt-fed.”
David weighed the magazine in his right hand and looked consideringly at Adrienne. “Do you know how to field strip a rifle?”
"Not that one," Adrienne answered. "Vee showed me how to take apart and clean a hunting rifle once, but they don't look at all the same. Except, I can do this..." she took off a glove and touched the rifle, Reading the beginning of its timeline to see how it was constructed, watching it be taken apart, cleaned, and put back together several times. "And now I know," she grinned at David when she pulled her hand away.
Arching a brow, David nodded, impressed. “That’s useful,” he commented with a smile. “Have you learned how to use it too?”
"Unfortunately, no." Adrienne made a face. "'Gonna show me, or is it a better use of your time to leave me with the pistol and show someone else?"
“Would be a waste if I didn’t,” the precog shrugged. “Especially if you’re going to be relying heavily on firearms in a combat situation.” And who knew what kind of situations they would soon be finding themselves in. David shifted over to the next crate and drew out another rifle for himself. Somehow, he misjudged its length and the base snagged briefly against the side of the wooden crate and, with his balance already off-kilter, stumbled as his knee gave way.
He was saved from falling face-first only by grabbing the first thing he could reach. A wave of dizziness accompanied a shiver that wrecked his body, and it took a while before he could pull himself upright.
Adrienne set her weapons down and tried to help David up. "Whoa! You okay? You really... don't look that good, Ninja." He was white as a sheet. "C'mon, you should go lie down. Lemme help you."
“I’m fine.” Except he clearly was not. He patted Adrienne’s hand and stood fully, offering her as reassuring a smile as he could. “It’ll be some time before I regain full mobility with my leg.” The not-quite-lie tripped off his tongue easily and he gently disengaged himself from her, turning back to retrieve the rifle. “Let’s finish our little tour. Then we’ll see if the princess can play with bigger guns.”
Adrienne stared at him for several moments, as if determining whether she should voice the questions that were beginning to form, or wanted to take his feet out from under him just to have the satisfaction of knocking him onto his back. She finally settled on picking up the pistol she had now claimed as her own and smirking at him. "Because despite what people say, it is, in fact, the size that counts, not how you use it?" she suggested innocently.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}