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Post by Spinister on Dec 21, 2007 12:01:52 GMT -5
OOC: This takes place after Barricade and Frenzy's introductions and their interviews, however those go, and after Hook completes the holo room.
Spinister is really entirely too good with programming Hook's wonderful little holo chamber. If anyone asks, he'll comment that a special forces member needs to know a little programming as a matter of course, and he will also demur and say that Lord Hook made the interface very intuitive and user-friendly.
When entering the holo-room, one is confronted with the demand to choose a colour. It does not allow one to pick a colour that has already been chosen, so odd colours like verdigris and puce may eventually end up selected.
Once a colour is selected, one finds oneself in a long hall with a number of private booths and some wide-open areas for more social shooters. The actual target range itself seems to stretch out to infinity. The relevance of the chosen colour quickly becomes clear. One's specific targets are all rendered in that colour.
The systems starts out by providing targets of an average difficulty: out at medium range, not too small, and moving only slowly. The room is adaptive. If one is struggling, the difficulty drops, with the targets getting slower, even immobile, larger, and closer. Also, the contrast of the background becomes sharper and the lighting becomes brighter, making it easier to see. If one does well, the targets get smaller, faster, and father away. Also, obstacles are generated between the shooter and the targets. The targets start to blend in better with the background, and the brightness dims. Finally, noises that only the advanced shooter can hear start to become audible, trying to distract him.
Given that no two people are going to be seeing or experiencing exactly the same, thing, the overall effect is rather trippy and hallucinatory, something that Spinister might have actually intended, just to add a bit of difficulty. Up in the corner of vision is a small box that lists hits, misses, and stray shots that landed on other people's targets by mistake.
For those with non-standard sensor arrays, such as infrared sensors, will find that the targets do emit such signatures. There is enough room in here to transform and exercise one's alternate mode weaponry.
Spinister, for his part, has chosen pink for his colour, and there is a pink swatch of terrain stretching out in front of his field of view, nothing but a cloudless night sky above him. He can hear "The Song That Never Ends" playing rather loudly in his audios, and he'd like to strangle whoever uploaded it to the Decepticon databanks.
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Dec 21, 2007 13:32:34 GMT -5
Dead End had planned--if 'planned' is the operative word for not thinking about doing anything--to be off in a funk somewhere when all this training rigamarole went down. If they really wanted him to participate, they could come get him. He hadn't intended to make any effort to show up.
His timing was off. Hook was done with the holo-chamber and Spinister had it set up and ready to go far sooner than Dead End expected. He was, in fact, returning from a three-day sulk in his garage to check on Hook's progress when he found himself looking into a working target range, with Spinister doing whatever Spinister does.
"Hmm. Interesting set-up. Black. Needs better music. Where's the nearest database console?" Dead End asked, reflecting that the question probably made him sound like a complete noob. It wasn't his fault Hook built things so fast! He could have added an entire missile base in the last three days for all Dead End knew.
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Dec 23, 2007 19:38:14 GMT -5
The pastel Seeker steps in. Training is important, after all, and this is far better than the static targets he's been practicing with of late. Well, there's also the local animals - some of those have proven to be an interesting challenge.
"Yellow," says Fleetwind, and then observes his targets. He smiles faintly towards the others, and notes, "It's not a particularly popular color among Decepticons, I find, so I rarely have to worry about duplicates or redundancies."
Not having begun firing yet, he doesn't hear the music that Spinister hears, and his targets are moving only slow. He fires off a quick round of shots. Though no specialist, he's got well better than average aim and some training at long distance shooting. It's obvious that his targets won't be going slow for very long.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 24, 2007 9:16:11 GMT -5
Spinister slowly, deliberately, lines up a shot and takes out a small object that darts and flickers like a dragonfly that would appear to be perhaps a mile away, for those who have the sensory acuity to resolve its simulated existence.
He stretches out, fingers cramping, and turns to Dead End and Fleetwind. Spinister leans back against the simulated safety bar and addresses Dead End first. "Not a night club." Needlenose would probably be here if it was. "You can set it up to consume the console with the simulation and to run until a certain set of criteria are met."
This, however, is not what Spinister has done. Hairsplitter transforms and climbs up onto Spinister's shoulder, perching there while Spinister walks down the hall. He pauses at a small black console, which is in no way how the console actually appears in life, and taps it. Currently, he has a user lock on it. He doesn't want people disabling this simulation until people have got their training in. Someone with higher powers in the system than him could disable the lock, of course.
Spinister then considers Fleetwind. It's curious how Fleetwind tries to justify his choice of yellow. Spinister doesn't bother trying to justify his choice of pink. The colour doesn't stand out any better when the landscape itself is adaptive. So he merely shrugs in greeting and takes stock of Fleetwind's shooting.
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Dec 24, 2007 14:24:07 GMT -5
"So I turn left here... And look at... Oh HEY look at that." Jetstorm announces as he stares into the Holo-room. He leans his head forward a bit, narrowing his optics and staring at it. "Can I pick... Me-colored? I'm the best colored blue, you see?" He explained to the machine, as if it could hold a conversation with him.
Whether or not it listens to 'me-colored,' Jetstorm's targets are a brilliant blue hue. He holds out his hand as if he's a prissy girl checking her nails, and then floats over to his little range and looks at the targets. "Well, look at this! Somethin' new 'round here," he admires it for a second before he raises his arms and starts his shooting.
Practice makes perfect.
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Thundercracker
Minor
Accomodatus the Obliging, Costumer Extraordinaire
Maybe they should just move my berth to repair bay and have done with it...
Posts: 259
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Post by Thundercracker on Dec 24, 2007 18:09:46 GMT -5
Thundercracker walks in next. "Silver," he requests, not bothering to justify his choice. His optics blink off and back on momentarily at the display presented to them -- if he didn't know he was entering a holo-chamber, he might assume that some joker spiked the energon stores.
"So THIS is how that Autobot Beachcomber sees the world," he muses.
Targets begin to present themselves, and he arms his rifle and begins firing. Since he's a pretty good shot, the targets quickly grow smaller and quicker as he continues to shoot.
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Dec 25, 2007 0:29:54 GMT -5
Dead End nodded at Spinister, though he wasn't quite sure what Spinister was talking about. He decided that Spinster meant "No, you can't upload your choice of music into the simulation to annoy everyone with." Oh, well. He'd deal with that later.
Dead End summoned his air rifle, toggled his radar on, and aimed at the initial black target. Nice; the simulation included radar returns.
PIP! PIP! PIP! The not-quite innocuous, high-pitched sound of the super-pressure air pulse slamming down-range echoed around Dead End as he handily blasted the first three targets. Of all five Stunticons, Dead End was the one most likely to hit what he aimed at.
The targets quickly shrank and sped up. Visual and audio distractions did not appreciably affect Dead End's score, but he started having trouble as the range increased and the radar size shrank. Finally he put his rifle down; he'd reached a stable point in the simulation, where hits and misses ran about 50-50 and the simulation neither eased up nor became more difficult.
"Spinister, do you have a standard laser pistol handy? There's a shot I pulled off once I'd like to re-enact."
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Shortround
Minor
Breaker of the Fourth Wall
Posts: 272
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Post by Shortround on Dec 25, 2007 1:18:00 GMT -5
Shortround walked into the Holo Chamber to see what the place looked like. It was about them he remembered that he had signed up for this target range, in order to stay away from the Capture the Flag event.
"Uh... White I guess" Shortround said, drawing his plasma rifle from subspace and looking at his targets. They're moving slow, and he's not hearing any music. Even so, Shortround takes his time taking aim at them, and hasn't fired at any.
His weapons are designed for destroying things in an area, not single targets. Very useful in the right situation, but a burden in the wrong one.
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Eye-fire
Major
In two minds about everything
Posts: 597
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Post by Eye-fire on Dec 25, 2007 5:21:57 GMT -5
Eye-Fire walks in, his usual unassuming self. Except now there's a slight air of confidence about him. He's been waiting for Spinister to set up the target range so he can gauge how good everyone else is and also to show how good he is.
"Blue" Eye-Fire says choosing the colour. He lifts a hand in greeting to all the assembled cons, but is otherwise silent.
Taking his position, his gun arm out stretched. The bolt on his fore arm clicking back, he proceeds to effortlessly breeze through the early targets that the course presents him.
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Dec 25, 2007 19:08:23 GMT -5
It should be noted that Fleetwind views practice and training as being very, very important. However, this is not practice and training. This is testing dressed up like practice and training. Fleetwind is well aware of this, and he has a tendancy to try to keep the exact upper limit of his skills quiet to everyone but himself. Thus, while he puts in a relatively good show, he starts missing before he really should.
After one such miss, he frowns, optics narrowed in annoyance. "Couldn't they have included any Cybertronian music in this? I understand it must be annoying, but I'm sure we could dig up annoying Cybertronian music instead..."
Finally, he shrugs and gets back to firing.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 25, 2007 23:12:15 GMT -5
Spinister notes the arrival of the spastic little jet, the lager and less-spastic jet, the hovercraft, and the other sniper. He greets each Decepticon (and Vehicon) with a curt nod.
Jetstorm and Thundercracker, at the moment, aren't doing anything terribly noteworthy, although Spinister does notice that the blue jets came in one after another. Perhaps a clique is forming. Blue paint is thicker than water?
Dead End, however, has addressed Spinister directly and requires an answer. He replies, "The simulation can manage one." After a moment of messing with the console, a standard laser pistol appears. Spinister holds out the laser pistol for Dead End to take. If the Stunticon does, he'll find that the simulated laser pistol apparently has weight and texture and it functions much as would be expected.
He then ghosts on over to consider Shortround. Spinister advises, "You'd be best suited for suppressive fire, at the moment."
Eye-Fire is actually quite impressive. Spinister takes a moment to watch Eye-Fire before nodding with appreciation.
Finally, he answers Fleetwind, "I just used what was uploaded to the databanks. Do you have some annoying Cybertonian music?"
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Dec 26, 2007 6:27:40 GMT -5
Skystrike steps silently into the chamber, hesitating after that, and then quietly mutters, “Verdant,” taking a moment to peer at everyone else before giving Spinister a brief greeting wave. The seeker checked idly over her shoulder cannons afterwards as she walked over to taker her position in one of the booths a good enough distance away from everyone else. She wasn’t here to socialize -of course, she rarely anywhere to socialize anyways.
The blue jet took a moment to look out over the view before raising one arm, aiming and firing. She only started missing when the targets got far enough away that her visual sensors registered them as little more than moving smears of color, but that was easily enough compensated for by upping the sensitivity of her other sensors. The visual displays and sounds did little to distract her. There were certain benefits that came from living with far too many crazy people for a far too large portion of your life. Once such benefit was the ability to shoot decently with someone going ‘Skyyyyyyyystriiiiiike, Vinny just ate the radioactive bolts!’ repetitively in your audio receptors.
In fact, it was the sudden realization that there was a lack of such nuisances that made Skystrike twitch and miss the next target.
She scowled darkly and stopped firing, glancing down at her raised arm and the fist that was suddenly clenched too tight. Easing open the hand, she took a moment to regain her concentration before continuing.
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Dec 26, 2007 14:03:46 GMT -5
People watching is more interesting than shooting, Jetstorm decides, as he peeks his head out from his little corner and watches everybody. There are those who are obviously much better than him at shooting, so he takes a few mental notes... Like to stay behind them in a fight.
"Hmn... Music?" He asks, thinking of the imported stuff he'd find on the waves that passed by Cybertron. Then again, he'd pick the operatic stuff out of that and have no taste in other music. "I don't know any music..." he mutters and then goes back to shooting.
Yeah. He needs practice.
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Thundercracker
Minor
Accomodatus the Obliging, Costumer Extraordinaire
Maybe they should just move my berth to repair bay and have done with it...
Posts: 259
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Post by Thundercracker on Dec 27, 2007 2:01:48 GMT -5
Thundercracker's increased his skill level enough by now that the music is starting to become audible. Catchy tune... wait a klick, they did NOT put that song on the air, did they? The song that Skywarp once managed to set on repeat at a barely audible (but still audible) level over the PA system in the Decepticon base once? The song that had almost gotten the black Seeker ripped to pieces by Thundercracker, though Skywarp probably would have died laughing anyhow?
He pauses in shooting and smiles a little as he recalls that incident. Sigma, he missed Skywarp. He kept hoping that his friend would be one of the next new arrivals, but unless he had shown up dead or close to the Autobot encampment, there had been no sign of him. This planet would have been a lot more bearable with the teleporter's company.
Sighing, he returned to firing.
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Dec 27, 2007 12:50:29 GMT -5
Dead End tossed off a few practice shots with the laser pistol until he satisfied himself that he had the aim and balance right. "Simulation, visual imagery: two each model 1985 Lamborghini Countach, one canary yellow, one fire-engine red; Autobot emblem centered on hood. Range 300 meters. Pose accelerating toward me on my mark. Target is center forward grill; penetration disables."
"One, two, three, MARK!"
The two brightly-colored, wedge-shaped Autobot sports cars materialized at Dead End's command, charging toward him. Dead End braced his laser pistol in a two-handed grip, sighting down the barrel of his pistol as the yellow Autobot accelerated relentlessly toward him. The seconds ticked away--
Dead End fired three quick shots, catching the yellow Lamborghini square in the front grill and then flung himself to one side as the holographic car's engine exploded into flames and hurtled past him, out-of-control to crash somewhere behind the other shooters. As he tumbled to one side, Dead End transformed; this time, the red Lambo hadn't been conveniently sideswiped by the disabled one.
Dead End transformed and deployed his blasters, coming down on his wheels with his engine racing; he opened fire with both blasters--
Straight into the rear of the red Lamborghini. It crashed in a most satisfying ball of flame.
After dumping a few extra shots into the red wreck for good measure, Dead End transformed and turned to Thundercracker. "I never understood why you fliers had so many problems with those two. We Stunticons found them rather entertaining."
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