(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

Someone once asked the most successful sniper of the Second World War how he got to be so good, and received the answer "Practice". Gordon knows about this man and his statement and has taken it to heart. His pulse rifle is receiving one last good going-over indoors, where it's nice and well-lit, before Gordon heads out to the range with it. He's got to do something to keep busy until the door opens again, after all, and he doubts that Alyx or Fury could object to target practice.


[tinytags: Gordon Freeman, Alyx Vance, Annabelle Newfield]

Comments

[vance_prime]

Question is, will Gordon object to Alyx coming up behind him to give him a hug?

"Hi."

[acts_of_gord]

Not at all. He might even lean back into it, since he managed to stifle the initial 'eep!' reflex pretty quickly.

"Hi yourself," he answers with a small smile. "How're you doing?'

[vance_prime]

"Pretty well." She gives him a peck on the cheek. "And you?"

[acts_of_gord]

"All right, I guess," says Gordon. "I was about to head outside and practice for a while. How wet is it out there, do you know?"

[vance_prime]

"Dunno, I haven't been out today. It was pretty dry yesterday, though."

Alyx breaks off the hug and settles into the seat next to Gordon. "Anyway, I came over to ask, can I borrow the hazard suit for a couple of hours?"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods. Not that he objects to rain, not given where he's from. Just figured he'd check.

The question, however, makes him blink. "What do you need it for?" he asks curiously. "Will it even fit you?"

[vance_prime]

"You'll see. I just--" She bursts into giggles at the second question. "I'm not gonna wear it, I just need to check something."

[acts_of_gord]

"Oh, good," says Gordon, relieved. "When I first got it they took all kinds of measurements to make sure the different segments were the right length. I'd offer you schematics if I had them."

[vance_prime]

"You'll get it back in one piece, I promise." She's still giggling, though. "Seriously, can you imagine me in that thing? I'd rattle around like a ball bearing in a coffee can."

[cutting_edgex23]

X, on her way to the range for some of her own target practice, pauses a few paces back, head slightly tilted.

Maybe she's watching his technique.

[acts_of_gord]

The rifle isn't a Terran design. Gordon had to attach the scope on the side himself; the Combine built the sighting equipment into their transhuman soldiers' heads instead. Nevertheless, it's doing its job remarkably well. Gordon's groupings are centered on the head and portions of the neck, and tend to be pretty tight, too.

[cutting_edgex23]

If X were anyone else, she would be impressed. As it is, this is just the expected state of affairs for someone using a firearm. Effectively.

Eventually she'll make some noise. Or shift position so that Gordon can see her clearly.

Just to be safe.

[acts_of_gord]

He glances up swiftly at that. Not far- just far enough to confirm that the motion he thought he caught in the reflection on the inside of his glasses was for real. Only then does he put the gun down.

"Didn't notice you there."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I know," X says. It's only the truth.

"I am good at being quiet."

There is a slight pause. Then--

"You are still here."

[acts_of_gord]

"Door hasn't opened yet," says Gordon. "I've been trying."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Oh."

X falls silent again, if only for a moment. Or two.

"But you are practicing."

[acts_of_gord]

"Of course," says Gordon. "If I don't practice, I'll lose my edge."

A few days of survival on pure instinct and frightening levels of inborn skill are no guarantee that future such days will ever come to pass.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle notices Gordon practicing with the pulse rifle out on the range and stops to watch the gun in action at a polite distance.

After all, once the door opens she's going to facing Combine wielding those guns. Better to find out about them now than on the battlefield.

[acts_of_gord]

The Combine pulse rifle is a fully automatic weapon that expels not slugs but energy bolts, resulting in holes with blackened edges. It has, by the look of things, a good deal of accuracy and very little recoil.

After about thirty shots Gordon stops to reload, and looks up. "Annabel. Hi."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Hello Gordon. That gun looks like a nice piece of work. Are we likely to be running into a lot of those back in your world?"

Annabelle really wants one of those rifles now that she's seen one in action.

[acts_of_gord]

"They're not as common as submachine guns," Gordon says. "The majority of soldiers and Civil Protection officers carry SMGs or the occasional shotgun. I got lucky when I found this one. You see them more in forces stationed closer to the Citadel."

[aeons_crackshot]

Anabelle nods. "Machine guns seem to be the gun of choice for thugs everywhere. I know that the mob used to give them to their goons."

"Not that the extra bullets did them much good against me and mine."

[acts_of_gord]

"Good to know," says Gordon with a faint smile. "The less I have to worry about the people coming with me, the happier I am."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle grins, "I've gotten very good at dodging gunfire. Mostly because I hate convalescing.

"I've been shot, clawed, poisoned, burned, bitten and quite a lot of other things, but none of them managed to quite kill me. She pauses for a moment. "I was going to say that I've just come really close to dying, but that's not exactly accurate anymore..."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon considers this. "Shot, yes," he says. "Clawed, yes. Poisoned... well, inhaled poison- oh, and the neurotoxic headcrab bites. And bitten plenty." He indicates the scars around his hairline; they're hard to see unless you're looking for them. "By all kinds of things. Not fun. We'll have to make sure to introduce you to the medkits they use in City 17. Amazing how fast they heal you up."