Big Boss (zero_2_nothing) wrote,
Big Boss
zero_2_nothing

Fufufu~

[So, we're gonna assume that we're on FOXHOUND HQ's shooting range-- currently set up to simulate sniping in urban environments.]

[A Snake and a Big Boss are having a moment here. Big Boss is doing nothing in particular except smoking and sitting at Snake's side, supervising him, who's (probably?) laying in a sniping position, complete with PSG-1, but sans Pentazemin and smokes.]

[Couple of stationary targets are set up in the distance. And it's quite a distance, making it hard to hit them even with the Sniper Rifle.]

[Well, have fun, Snake. Don't disappoint your Boss. Or Fox, who's probably watching from somewhere as well.]
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[so he's confident. Pentazemin? Its effects are so short-lived, so he's better off without it. Could really use a cigarette right about now to calm the nerves, but again, who needs it?]

[those targets? Psssh, yeah. He could hit them]

[except when your hands are trembling and the more you concentrate the more you realize how great the distance really is, your confidence lowers by a notch. He squeezes the trigger and fires. It misses by what he likes to believe is an inch. Maybe.]

[reloads]
...
[He reaches for the binoculars at his side and takes a good look at the targets through it.]

[Frowns.]

... You didn't even hit the target.

[Searches for the bullethole. It's... pretty far off.]

...

I thought the qualifications in your résumé stated that you were above average at sniping. Maybe you're having a bad day. Try again.
[maybe he's trying to hard to impress, and maybe the wind's off. He fires again and hopes his aim is true this time around]
[Sure, the wind.]

...Hn.

Close, but still not right.

[sets down the binoculars and glances at Snake instead.]

Your hands are shaking. You need to steady your aim or you'll never hit anything. And these aren't even moving targets.
[small nod of acknowledgment] Sir.

[and now he's embarrassing himself in front of his commander. Wonderful.]

[but the targets are so far away. Much, much further than he's used to.]

[deep breath. Concentrate. Relax.]

[third time's the charm. Let's hope so when he pulls the trigger again, focusing on the target he's missed twice]
...

[another look through the binoculars.]

Well... let's say you would have hit his foot. That's not so bad.

[is actually surprised about his own patience.]

Give me that thing for a minute. Also, use this to calm down. Looks like you need it.

[as he says that, he takes the sniper rifle from Snake, while simultaneously handing him the binoculars and his cigar.]

[he reloads, and props up one leg, resting the gun on his knee for a little additional stability.]

Look. You were concentrating too hard. Preparing the weapon, aiming, and pulling the trigger has to be one fluid action. It has to feel natural. If you start thinking you're just wasting time. And probably ammunition. None of that is expendable. And your accuracy suffers a great deal too.

[BB tightens his grip on the weapon, and takes aim with his good eye for a very brief moment.]

Don't think--

[and squeezes the trigger]

..Shoot.
[looks down at the cigar, incredulous, before hesitantly putting it in his mouth. It's a wonder how much it helps; almost as amazing as Big Boss perfectly shooting the target, but what else would you expect from the century's greatest solider]

[he nods at length, hesitant]

[he heaves a sigh and puts down the gun after checking that he did indeed hit]

[well, he's actually a little surprised himself that after years of paperwork and battlefield absence he's still able to pull this off]

[maybe it's really in the genes]

[he turns his head and looks over to Snake, offering him the PSG1]

You're not very talkative, are you?

[well, of course not]

You're a natural talent. Admittedly, this isn't army training anymore, but you'll get used to it fairly quickly. Give it a few days, and I'm sure you'll hit the mark with every shot fired.
So, no reason to be so nervous.
[he nods again, taking the rifle back] Yes, sir. Thank you.

[it isn't until he's in the middle of setting the PSG1 back up that he realizes he still has his commander's cigar. A tad quickly, he offers it back to Big Boss]
[he shakes his head]

You need it more than me. Now aim and fire, like I showed you. That's your final shot.
[nods and wordlessly resumes smoking. Sets his shot up again and-]

(Just like breathing.)

[--fires]
See. Much better.

At least you hit the target this time.
You can't miss. Every shot has to hit it's designated target.

You will practice this until you're able to do that. It has to be as natural as eating, sleeping, breathing.
[nods in acknowledgment and prepares to set up another shot]
[gestures him to stop, and stands up]

No. We're done for now.

Put the rifle back. You'll have an hour of free time. We'll meet up at 1300 in the training center again and go through the remaining exercises for today.
[straightens up and mutters a quiet note of assent as he places the PSG-1 back on its stand with the others. He salutes before going on his way, intending to procure a pack of cigarettes from his footlocker back at the center. If there was ever an instance where he's needed to relax, it's now]
[passes by]

[stops, and eyes him. a little curious, maybe.]

....
...!

[ohshi-]

[snaps to a salute, attentive and mildly surprised]
--Sir?
[very, very stern expression.]

...Are you new here?
Yes, sir. Just transfered in from the SF.

[hardly impressive compared to most of the other recruits. He wonders how much disdain Fox holds against him for this alone]
... Green Beret, huh.

[Fox does not hold any disdain, he's just mildly surprised. the Boss probably has his reasons to invite him]

[speaking of that, you might notice how Fox is scrutinizing you. rather intense stare. he notices the similarity and already starts suspecting]

Your name?
David.

[I see that look ur giving me thar] Is something wrong, sir?
[he stops staring, but still has a veeery piercing gaze.]

No. And stop calling me 'sir'.

I was talking about your codename. Don't have one yet?
[shakes his head 'no']
...Hm. You're doing the exercises right now then.

[leans against a locker, crossing his arms]

Going well?
Not exactly.

[tries to sound apathetic, but it comes off as more regretful than anything] Didn't do so hot with sniping. [adds apologetically] I've never practiced on targets that far away without Pentazemin.

frank_hunter

8 years ago

ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

8 years ago

ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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frank_hunter

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ouroboro_s

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zero_2_nothing

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ouroboro_s

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zero_2_nothing

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ouroboro_s

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SNOOOORT

zero_2_nothing

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ouroboro_s

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zero_2_nothing

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ouroboro_s

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zero_2_nothing

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ouroboro_s

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zero_2_nothing

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