( open ) training montage whomp whomp

[sagittae]

▶ WHO: allison and peggy!! + ANYONE
▶ DATE: day 4 and beyond
▶ WARNINGS: n/a will update as needed
▶ SUMMARY: ally a offers shooting lessons (note: this can be used for sign ups/pre-amble chatting/post training talks/plans/the occasional training thread out but pls don't make me thread every lesson ;u;)


[ honestly allison is desperate to keep busy. things are pretty weird here, and one thing that makes her feel even a little bit closer to normal is the bow clutched in her hand. it seemed like a pretty natural progression to throw in her own offer to show anyone in need of help how to use one.

as mentioned in her announcement allison hangs around for a few hours around noon every day, in the compound near the main gate. there are a few cans and bottles set up, a few targets scrawled on paper tacked to the fence, and she takes count of the arrows and bows available to her while she waits, determined not to lose track of anything she's brought accidentally. ]

Comments

[mucked]

( OPEN )

[ it's a bloody paradox: a crisis wherein a gunshot could save your life or (alternatively) rain destruction as the percussive bang draws enemies to your immediate location. not an ideal sort of battlefield, she admits. but one in which a modicum of comfort with a firearm should help. the problem is figuring out how to teach a skill that can't be used except in the very instance it's most needed. utter bollocks.

but here remains peggy carter. alongside miss argent's far more practical bow-and-arrow lessons is the opportunity for those refugees of time and space to come and familiarize themselves with whatever firearms they may have picked up since their arrival. peggy knows a great many gathered here already know how to hold to gun -- but there are greener 'recruits' whose trigger discipline could likely use a little help. so (looking all the world like an office secretary and not a seasoned spy and soldier), peggy takes up her own corner of the compound. a square of canvas is laid out with a selection of (empty!) pistols and rifles and shotguns. when she isn't actively explaining something to a person, she leans back and keeps a watchful admiring eye on the makeshift archery range next-door. ]

( CLOSED TO ALLISON ARGENT )

[ on the first day of the first round of lessons, peggy approaches the young woman she's only ever seen at a distance. only ever noticed in passing. there are so many faces within the compound -- and not yet enough time to learn all of them. but confident in this particular introduction, peggy meets miss argent with a confident stride and an outstretched hand. ]

Peggy Carter. [ she doesn't smile when she says it, though that doesn't necessarily mark her as unfriendly. merely...pragmatic. precise. ] I answered your bit of scrawl on the wall. [ ha. ] I must say I'm...intrigued.

[ archery. bows and arrows. bloody ingenious, considering the conundrum they face. it isn't easy to own up to her shortcomings with such a...palaeolithic sort of weapon. but peggy isn't so proud as to spit on an opportunity to learn just how much she doesn't know. not least of all when the could-be instructor falls well into her comfort zone: a fellow spirited woman. ]

(ooc: brackets and prose both welcome!)

[untodawn]

Agent Carter.

[ For all his size and the intimating almost inhuman silhouette his armor cast against the glare of the sun at the peak of noon nothing about how he marched onto the field could really be ascribed to a commanding presence. He bade the same emphatic presence of a slow moving draft horse or even a mountain; not in any rush or to cause a stir but overall disinclined to budge.

John comes up to Peggy with the steady lop of someone walking off a long run. Held over over his shoulder was an olive drab canvas duffle bag bulging and lumpy, filled to the brim with something. He puts about a meter between him and Peggy before dropping the duffle bag onto the ground. By the sound it made on impact, it had been incredibly heavy. ]

Saw the note out on the board and thought I could spare everyone a busted eardrum or several.

[mucked]

[ once upon a time (not so long ago) his frame had struck a chord. peggy had looked upon the soldier she now called chief and she'd felt a frisson of fear. there isn't any shame in feeling afraid of things that are indeed frightening. huge men in huge suits of armour -- her instinct had been correct enough. but now that fearsomeness stood like an ally to a greater cause.

it allows her to meet him with a mild smile and a bow of her head. ]

Good day. [ little routines fall into place. soft social norms reassert themselves, even now. she casts an eager eye on the bag between them. ] Are you Father Christmas, then? Visiting out of season because I've been on my best behaviour?

[ day by day her wry humour reveals itself all the more with the few individuals she's deemed friendlier than the rest. or if not friendlier, than at least dearer to her current aims. ]

[untodawn]

[ He nodded back in kind but the visor rendered smiling an assumption on Peggy's part. ]

The reindeer couldn't keep up so it's just me.

[ Dropped down in a squat, John unzips the bag. Inside were stacked, what at first glance, looked like M4 carbine action rifles along with several Semi-automatic pistol. Only they all were made from a sort of hard, dark plastic poured into a mold to create near-perfect replica. The M4s also had bulbous attachments on their stocks. Underneath this cache was what appeared to be several plastic bags stuffed with orange balls no larger than a walnut.

John pulled out one of the rifles and held it out to Peggy. ]

Understandably, no one in the Hollows thought to loot any of the stores of its paintball guns.

[mucked]

[ at first -- at first -- she nearly chides him. nearly informs him (in a clipped fashion) that she has more than enough guns, thank you very much. but her chambered protest is quickly swallowed when she sees the unusual make of these things he offers up like gifts. odd mechanisms. strange materials. it strikes her as just bizarre enough to warrant a fair shake.

peggy doesn't squat. she but barely bends. instead, she only inclines her upper body by degrees and gives the bounty a closer look. paintball guns? the term is foreign to her. ]

How do they work? [ she asks, thrusting straight to the heart of the matter. she trusts him not to bring whatever-they-are to her if they weren't something curious. something unique. something particular. ]

[untodawn]

[ Having exhausted his capacity for easy conversation, John only nods once and gave Peggy a succinct answer that it worked on compressed carbon dioxide tanks to launch balls of paint. Arm retracted, he brings one leg forward and lays the paintball gun over his knee. Slowing himself down to a reasonable speed knowing this is a demonstration, John field strips the paintball rifle. Removing the stock and detaching the rest of the components to show her where the paintballs are loaded and where the CO2 cartridge is.

Fluidly, he stood back up and with almost mechanical weapons discipline slides his finger from safely over trigger onto it after zeroing in on a nearby tree. The rifle goes off with only a soft snap of air and the dull slap of orange paint splattering over the trunk of the tree. John lowered his weapon and handed it back over to Peggy again. ]

[mucked]

[ despite knowing her way around a number of garden variety firearms, peggy won't snub a further demonstration. doubly so when there are little bits and pieces about these odd era guns which require a little more attention. what piques her interest most thoroughly is the co2. it makes her brow crease.

-- but then the shot makes her lip curl into a half-smile. it is (indeed) the perfect teaching tool. with an almost eager alacrity, she lifts the same gun from his bulky grip and lets her fingers familiarize themselves with the paintball marker's feel.

it's only an exhale later that sees her settling the oddly light rifle against her shoulder, and so peggy snaps off a pair of shots. the first one fires low because she (understandably) overestimated the recoil on gun like this. but the second shot nearly zeroes on in master chief's first splatter.

her smile twitches wider. ] Bloody brilliant.

[untodawn]

[ Obscured by the helmet, Peggy would not see how John's eyes followed her every movement. Watching her and appraising how she quickly familiarized herself with new equipment, how she carefully tested the recoil to compensate accordingly, and land a share near perfect over his own. The last one really stood out to him. He noticed before out in the field, but never spoke on it. ]

You're an incredible shot.

[ Coming from him it was only comparable to a calculator spontaneously achieving sentience simply to compliment someone on their arithmetic. ]

[mucked]

I've known better.

[ she deflects. not because she isn't grateful or flattered -- she is deeply both -- but because it's true. peggy's marksmanship has always been admirable, but she's had the pleasure of serving laterally with a shot like sergeant barnes. and perhaps in the way she says it there can be detected a whiff of...ambition. as if peggy carter isn't comfortable settling with the middle ground. she will fight tooth and nail for every scrap of advancement she can find. it isn't ambition for ambition's sake, but because she craves competency. she has high standards, and she aims to live up to each and ever one of them.

slowly, she lets the paintball marker's barrel drop. ] But I trained well and I trained early. Even so, I'm not a sniper. Not by trade.

[ she's something else entirely. ]

[untodawn]

[ One of his teammates since childhood, Linda, since out of boot could pick off two targets so fast John wouldn't know which one she shoot first. Not that he would, or under a mountain of red tape, could tell Peggy any of this - she had a talent for this. He would know. ]

It doesn't have to be on paper for it to be evident.

[ And he meant it. Anyone with that kind of control over whatever firearm was in their hands really had something worth honing, in his opinion.

Then John clicked his tongue soft enough Peggy might not have heard as he looked over the space that had been allotted to train newcomers. For introductory and safety lessons, the space was adequate but for what could come at them out in those woods...John found it lacking. He was starting to think like CPO Mendez. ]

We need an obstacle course.

[mucked]

Something that mimics the hazards outside the walls -- or, at least those natural to the terrain. [ a long slow breath. she quirks a mild smirk, as though she's almost envious of his thought. ] Yes. You're quite right.

[ she still holds the rifle. barrel-down, fingers relaxed and far from the trigger. paint is a harmless thing, but she had hit the very word right on its head earlier. training dictates a great deal of what she does in this moment. ]

We'll need ropes. Boards. Wire.

[untodawn]

And a really big ditch.

[ John flatly supplied. He could have been joking but it was anyone's guess with him.

That didn't detract from the point Peggy made that a simulation of hazards outside the compound would be the main focus of this notional obstacle course. ]

It will take a day - two, at most. [ John looks back at Peggy, visor holding a level if blank gaze with her. Waiting for the green light. ] This is your show, ma'am.

[mucked]

[ she tightens her mouth around a rogue smile. ]

Our show,...Chief. [ trepidation surrounded each use of the title. it affords a semblance of a command chain that simply didn't exist, here. ] We do it together or not at all -- which I'm quite certain means it's our show.

[ she's learned better than to try and be too adamant about going it alone in this or any world. ]

[untodawn]

[ He dipped his in a slow nod even as he carefully observed the tight pull of her smile and the gap between 'Our show' and a swiftly delivered Chief. Body language was easier for him than words when it came to non-SPARTANs because even the military types tended to advertise more than they let on with a tell or even how they shifted their weight.

Peggy was as keen on the idea that teamwork would pull everyone through this as he had been. Only not much of a team if he kept shutting down anyone knowing a damn thing about him. Everyone who wasn't in that dwindling circle of Spartans always called him Chief, but this wasn't the UNSC...and he made a promise to stop being such a machine. ]

John.

[ He doesn't elaborate and doesn't feel the need to. John nods again and says, ]

We should get this show on the road. I have a few ideas.

[mucked]

John.

[ at first, it's a paradox. it's such a bloody normal name -- and such a bloody normal thing to hear it spoken aloud. it takes a heartbeat or two for peggy's incredulity to catch up with her ears. moments later, her face splits into a genuine smile. touched -- pleased -- she nods her head.

and for the moment she ignores their impetus and their 'show'. it's far more important to mark this sweet occasion: ] It's a lovely name.

[ common. simple. no more lovely than any other name. but its loveliness takes the form of an intimate gift from an uncommon man. it's moving. ]

[untodawn]

[ Hands with nothing to do flexed into loose fists and swayed limp at his sides that rocked with the shift in his weight from one heel to the other. Idle movements otherwise, but for John it was agitation; reflexive to hear his own name and rankle at the foreign sound of it.

He was glad it had done something for Carter. Fortifying what trust was steadily building between their respective circles since coming here. It was just he needed to get used to hearing his name again. ]

Right.

[ John could square his shoulders and power through an battalion of Covenant forces, or a thread of conversation he wanted to leave as is.

Not having much in the way of pockets, John sacrificed an ammo case to use to carry a small waterproof memo book and pencil. He drops back down on one knee on the ground and the other leg using his massive armored thigh as a stopgap writing desk. ]

We have the room and the supplies if we get creative.

[ John draws out a circle and maps out two paths that run concurrently around the circle path. There was some simplistic triangles and scrawled in patches for obstacles with a map key to estimate how much space they would need to annex from the compound. He was no artists, but the idea was clear enough. ]

The...second [ Was he getting this right? ] World War. It set a precedent for boot, didn't it?

[ Basically, he was saying Carter must be the authority on how to make the most of what they had here. ]