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capeandcowllogs2011-02-24 10:44 pm
the-enemy-ace.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-02-24 10:44 pm
Entry tags:
Getting to know one's Coworkers
WHO: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
newbvampire and the_enemy_ace
WHERE: The police station, in the gun range.
WHEN: Tonight
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Von Hammer is a member of the force now, and it is best to know one's fellow officers...
FORMAT: Para, or whatever!
It was late in the evening. He was, somewhat thankfully, alone. The range here was simple, which was a good sign. Ostentation in practical spaces was a poor idea, and reflective of sloppy thinking. But it was a good building, with efficient people. And he was badly out of practice with a rifle. He wasn't pleased with his gunnery with a pistol, either.
It was odd. He had, after many years of combat, more difficulty hitting a standing target than something travelling at high speed through the air. He was precise in the air. He would be precise on the ground, as he once had been.
And so he practised, long after everyone else had gone. Pistol and rifle. He would, of course, compensate the department for the excess ammunition concerned. He pressed the switch sending a new target down to the other end of the gallery. He enjoyed a bolt-action rifle. It was familiar, and it required precision. You took a moment between shots, long enough to breathe. That split second of calm deliberation was, he found, very useful. He pressed the rifle into his shoulder, taking careful aim.
And then fired his first shot. The bolt was opened, slammed back into place. Then the second. He emptied the rest of the clip, then placed the rifle down, sighing. Then he looked to the side.
"Ah, officer."
newbvampire and the_enemy_aceWHERE: The police station, in the gun range.
WHEN: Tonight
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Von Hammer is a member of the force now, and it is best to know one's fellow officers...
FORMAT: Para, or whatever!
It was late in the evening. He was, somewhat thankfully, alone. The range here was simple, which was a good sign. Ostentation in practical spaces was a poor idea, and reflective of sloppy thinking. But it was a good building, with efficient people. And he was badly out of practice with a rifle. He wasn't pleased with his gunnery with a pistol, either.
It was odd. He had, after many years of combat, more difficulty hitting a standing target than something travelling at high speed through the air. He was precise in the air. He would be precise on the ground, as he once had been.
And so he practised, long after everyone else had gone. Pistol and rifle. He would, of course, compensate the department for the excess ammunition concerned. He pressed the switch sending a new target down to the other end of the gallery. He enjoyed a bolt-action rifle. It was familiar, and it required precision. You took a moment between shots, long enough to breathe. That split second of calm deliberation was, he found, very useful. He pressed the rifle into his shoulder, taking careful aim.
And then fired his first shot. The bolt was opened, slammed back into place. Then the second. He emptied the rest of the clip, then placed the rifle down, sighing. Then he looked to the side.
"Ah, officer."
no subject
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"It is only slightly different, thus far, from my previous activities. In superior ways, I might add. I do not have to kill, for a start."
no subject
One tubby little Major in particular.
no subject
He fired again, better this time. Every shot would have been lethal, but he was clearly not happy with merely 'good'.
no subject
no subject
He looked at her for a moment, his brow wrinkling.
"Something is troubling you?"
He is good at reading expressions. After this long, he has to be, really.
no subject
no subject
He pulled back the bolt on the rifle, and inserted another round.
"You wish to be of maximum use, and the thought of being replaced at something that crucial to me would elicit a similar response, I suspect."
He fired, hitting the target dead on.
"I am not a sniper, by any means, nor am I experienced in ground combat missions. Oh, I have survived plenty of combat on the ground...not of my choosing, mind, but I have...and training for it, from when I was a boy. But the trouble is, I have never done so deliberately, as part of a mission. I have done what I needed to do to survive, nothing more."
He nodded to her.
"Thus you will find me deferring to your vastly superior experience in such things. I will be content, for now, to get back in the habit of being able to properly hit a target that is not airborne from another plane."
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"Of course. Seras. I was merely attempting to respect the rank. In my era, any woman in service definitely had earned the rank. I am unsure how prevalent women in military and constabulary service are today, of course, but I can only hope there are more of them."
He thinks that over for a second.
"A remark that probably seems quite strange from a man of my era. But I flew against the woman pilots of Russia. Any illusions about the inferiority of the female gender disappeared very quickly."
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He puts down the rifle, loading the pistol. The one he had surrendered to her upon his arrival.
"At any rate, I must say that having officers like you as part of the constabulary gives me considerable comfort."
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"That is all anyone can ask of anybody else."
He fires a few pistol shots, then summons the target forward, surveying his work.
"Better, but still not good enough."
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He puts down the pistol, looking at her.
"But I thank you for the encouragement. You deal well with people, a good skill in a person of your rank."
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He gives her a look, nodding.
"I was never a sergeant, but I have seen enough to know what a good one looks like."
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He pauses for a second, wondering at her words.
"I suspect it is rather a matter of me not letting you down. I am the junior officer here, by far."
He manages a slight smile.
"I will gladly follow your lead. And it will prove an honour to provide air support for you. As well as the other officers, naturally."
no subject