Participants
Date
24/1/2018
Log
It's a bit of a lousy day outside to be running drills. Between the light rain, heavy dose of clouds, and chilly weather, those without fur or adequate amounts of clothing would likely be in a bit of a mood. Most of the employees milling about seem to be wearing ponchos or light rainjackets to fight off the drizzle, and thus, seem relatively unaffected. The doberman in feront seems like the guy to talk to, judging from his general stance, serious demeanor, and, big fuck-off rifle. He gazes at the participants cooly as the filter into the area, a rubber-tire wall cordoning off the area generally recognized as the prep zone.
Anderson stands around near the tables of firearms. He's currently looking over some of the tables looking over some of the pistols and shotguns at the moment, cautious about where he points the guns when checking how they feel in his hands.
It's another wonderful day, a glorious noon to be free, a lovely time to be schlop around, but then there's work to be found! *schlop schlop schlop* In every puddle Otto passed by, with a kick in his step and a smile on his face, he cared not for the rain, and carried a song in his heart to go with the grin at his lips.
What had him in such a jovial mood? It's unclear... maybe he'd won something, or had a great time with some friends, met someone new and interesting, or had a breakthrough with his crafting... who cares? He'd donned some casual clothes, a belt and a bandoleer, a light crimson felt shirt and some pantaloons preserved his modesty while a pair of steel-toed shoes kept his feet dry.
The jackal whistles a tune and peeks at his comm unit, GOOD GRIEF! He was going to be late at this rate! One squat later, and he'd lept into the air, high enough to cling to one of the windows and scurry up the side of the nearest building, then take another high leap to go from roof to roof.
Multiple bounds later, the canine was left at the top of the building adjacent to his destignation. Peering down at the firing range, he breathes a sigh of relief as he looks at the time. Thank the stars, he'd arrived without being late. The agents there were already busy with their practice rounds, it seemed... but lookign down from so far up, it was hard to determine if anyone familiar was around.
Alley-oop! *THUD* he makes a landing in a clear spot just outside the training area. "Ooof... hard on the legs." the jackal nods and rubs at his knees. Jump good, but fall hard, such was the drawback, wasn't it?
Dusting himself off a bit, he peers around for the friend he'd brought along. Ebreus was usually always on time for things! He had to be around! Maybe he's using one of those crazy new forms of his? Who knows? Damnable rain, making Otto's sniffer wet and making it harder to sniff around for things... Oh well...
With a flick of her ear, Summers browsed over the munitions on the tables of the building. She made no claims to know anything about them. They were something she'd only recently started to toy with, guns and wotnot.
That didn't mean she hadn't already gotten one. She just didn't really know much about it. She glanced around and wandered towards a shadowy corner to watch everyone. It'd been awhile since she'd done anything, and the call to arms RSX had posted seemed like a good chance to get back into the thick of it. She just hoped she didn't fuck up.
Ebreus strolls down the road toward the building RSX designated for livefire exercizes, cradling his Solar Rifle in his arms and holstered shotguns swaying with each step. Acompanying him on his aproach to the building is a cadre of combat drones, some small and light-weight scouts and others visibly build to take and return gunfire.
He looks over the RSX personel and the other Agents who've shown up for the live-fire training session. Hearing Otto land from his last leap he looks over to his landing spot and smiles. He jogs over to him, "Hey Otto. Glad to see you made it." he says, his drones following close behind him and entering an orbit around him when he stops but not obsessively stairing at anyone near him like they previously had.
Ebreus checks his drones to make sure they're not doing something stupid and then smiles as he returns his attention to his Jackal friend, "This is going to be fun... or at least seems like it'll be." he says enthusiastically.
"Is this all of you?" The doberman asks, in his slightly gruff voice. He seems to be unfazed by Otto's entry, instead waiting for the cluster of agents to settle down amongst themselves, and, well, prolperly pay attention. He nods to each of the people in turn, seemingly sizing them each up as subtly as he can. "I assume you've all read the briefing. If you haven't, well, that's already a point not in your favor. Despite this, I will go over the plan -- inside this building is a simulation of many different targets. Some mutant, some human, some armored, some not. The goal of this exercise will be to clear this building in as little time as possible. You will recieve no assistance besides that of the weapons we provide. It will be up to you four, as a team, to decide how to enter the building, how to circle through it, and how to minimize flanking routes. You will be graded on time, and how intact the building is at the end. Any questions before we begin?"
Anderson blinks, setting down the loaner boomstick back to the table and turning to face to the doberman respectfully. One of his heads stutter, "O-One question, sir. W-will... Will w-we need t-to watch o-out for h-hostages? F-for the t-training, I-I mean."
Fiore wasn't RSX, hell, she wasn't even properly independant as far as Zephyr was concerned. However, the vixen didn't have too much of a say in that whole business, being added to the company roster at birth since her mother was on payroll officially. Thusly, when RSX called for people, Fiore didn't answer as a rule, it tended to annoy the local office. However, lately, her quest for money and reasons to stay as far away from Zephyr's awful lobby have her wandering out here. Albeit rather late.
The vixen's eyes flick back and forth as she tries to find where the training area is mostly by sight, but the sound of a canine voice helps direct the vixen to the small gathering of people, She stands there for a moment, clearly trying to ascertain if there was where she should be or not.
"Sorry I'm late."
