|mutabilis (mutabilis) wrote in missionreports,|
@ 2016-08-31 20:43:00
|Entry tags:||character: gabriel de vries/ctulhu, character: preston macleod/mimic, location: inferno, progress: in progress, progress: open|
Characters: Gabriel de Vries, open
Location: The practice range
Time: Wednesday evening
Summary: Practice and conversation
Status: In progress
It was, Gabriel decided, somewhat ironic that at the practice range he found a measure of peace. The room was dim but for the lighted targets at the end of the range, shadows curling in the corners of the room. The ear protectors muffled even the sharp report of the Beretta in his hand. He knew that Agent Paulson was somewhere about in the armory the next room over and that he was not truly alone, but still, somehow it felt as if he was. In this time and place he didn't mind the feeling. It was actually rather meditative, his eyes and hands and body working together automatically to fill the center of the paper target’s chest with closely-bunched shots while his mind floated somewhere, a part of it occupied by his last mission and how lucky they'd been to all get back mostly in one piece. It didn't always happen; the loss of half of Romeo was vivid, hard proof of that.
Paulson had handed over the Beretta and ammunition, set him up with paper targets and then left him be after solemnly watching him fire through an entire clip, checking his form. Gabriel liked Paulson, who hadn't blinked an eye on first meeting him and who treated him decently, like a person instead of...something else. Mostly that sort of thing rolled off him; he'd been treated like a monster for half his life. He was not ashamed of what he was; it was his strength.
Gabriel frowned and ejected the empty clip, slamming home a fresh one. He took a step to the side, to the next gallery with a fresh target and brought the pistol up, steadying it with his other hand. He methodically filled the center of the target with fourteen shots, all perfectly within kill range. The fifteenth shot he put through the head. Mercy shot, kill shot. He never left an enemy alive because an enemy that can get up will be an enemy you might face another day in an encounter you might not survive. He liked to consider himself a very practical man.