Practical Marksmanship | Session 1 | Fourth Period | 7/9/2010
As far as first workshops went, Price thought today would hold a bit of excitement as well as a laying the groundwork for the following six weeks.
The class met in the Danger Shop, the environment an open field with very long grass, approximately knee high on Price. A small area was cleared of the grass, and this is where a set of cushioned benches were set for the students, in front of a set of tables covered in simulated firearms and other projectile weaponry. Price himself stood behind the tables, a simulated MP5 submachine gun in his hands. Ashley stood next to him, her long blonde hair tied back in a messy bun so it would stay out of her face. She wore her typical black jeans, black boots and black tank top and held a simulated version of her favorite Jericho 941.
With one hand, Price gestured for the students to take a seat. "My name is Captain John Price of the British Special Air Service, and I'll be one of your instructors for this class. Before we continue, I'll let my fellow instructor introduce herself."
"I'm Ashley Magnus and I'm an expert monster hunter back home in Canada," she said. "I've been using guns since I was strong enough to hold them." She gave a smug smile and nodded to Price to continue.
"This course is only marginally about firearm use. In fact, if you have a preferred weapon, ranged of course, that you'd rather use you're more than welcome to. But familiarizing yourself with a multitude of weapons is also beneficial, so I also encourage you to push out of your comfort zone on various weeks. But, first things are first. This is a class that involves the application of violence against a variety of simulated targets. What this is not is a class to goof off and play with guns. If any of you deliberately aim a weapon at one of your fellow students, Miss Magnus, or myself, you will become quite familiar with the school's detention program. Do it repeatedly and I will have you removed from the course. While these are simulations, and no one will come to harm in here, this is not a game. The real world versions of all these weapons will kill. In here, if you fire at a classmate or an instructor, this will happen." Price gestured to Ashley, who put her gun down and turned to face him, hands on her hips.
Price then fired his MP5 at her, a quick three round burst. Three paintball splatters seemingly came back and hit Price in the chest. Ashley herself remained untouched by anything. "So I will know if friendly fire occurs."
"So do us all a favor and don't do it," Ash said, turning to face the class again. "Because I really hate paperwork."
"Now we will not be using the typical firearm safety equipment. Let's face it, in a combat scenario you're not going to be finding your safety glasses and ear protection. Not to mention you need to be able to hear your targets as well as see them. Now today's activity is simple. Target practice with moving targets. Rather than a simple shooting gallery, you'll be firing at ducks. They're not real, so there's no animal cruelty involved. Pick yourself a weapon, step forward to one of the marks on the ground," Price pointed to where three white lines had been placed at the edge of the clearing in the grass. "And you'll find the ducks will show up soon enough. Take a few shots, and Miss Magnus or myself will give you a few pointers."
A slightly pixelated hound popped its head out of the grass and gave an annoying, 8-bit laugh.
"I hate that dog," Price said. "Can't figure out how to shut him off, either. So, step up, one and all. And when you pick a weapon, please give your name to the class and maybe give a quick listing of your weaponry experience."
And so began the first class.
[ooc: Please wait for OCD Open and ready! Pre-written with the help of the lovely lovethenubbins]
The class met in the Danger Shop, the environment an open field with very long grass, approximately knee high on Price. A small area was cleared of the grass, and this is where a set of cushioned benches were set for the students, in front of a set of tables covered in simulated firearms and other projectile weaponry. Price himself stood behind the tables, a simulated MP5 submachine gun in his hands. Ashley stood next to him, her long blonde hair tied back in a messy bun so it would stay out of her face. She wore her typical black jeans, black boots and black tank top and held a simulated version of her favorite Jericho 941.
With one hand, Price gestured for the students to take a seat. "My name is Captain John Price of the British Special Air Service, and I'll be one of your instructors for this class. Before we continue, I'll let my fellow instructor introduce herself."
"I'm Ashley Magnus and I'm an expert monster hunter back home in Canada," she said. "I've been using guns since I was strong enough to hold them." She gave a smug smile and nodded to Price to continue.
"This course is only marginally about firearm use. In fact, if you have a preferred weapon, ranged of course, that you'd rather use you're more than welcome to. But familiarizing yourself with a multitude of weapons is also beneficial, so I also encourage you to push out of your comfort zone on various weeks. But, first things are first. This is a class that involves the application of violence against a variety of simulated targets. What this is not is a class to goof off and play with guns. If any of you deliberately aim a weapon at one of your fellow students, Miss Magnus, or myself, you will become quite familiar with the school's detention program. Do it repeatedly and I will have you removed from the course. While these are simulations, and no one will come to harm in here, this is not a game. The real world versions of all these weapons will kill. In here, if you fire at a classmate or an instructor, this will happen." Price gestured to Ashley, who put her gun down and turned to face him, hands on her hips.
Price then fired his MP5 at her, a quick three round burst. Three paintball splatters seemingly came back and hit Price in the chest. Ashley herself remained untouched by anything. "So I will know if friendly fire occurs."
"So do us all a favor and don't do it," Ash said, turning to face the class again. "Because I really hate paperwork."
"Now we will not be using the typical firearm safety equipment. Let's face it, in a combat scenario you're not going to be finding your safety glasses and ear protection. Not to mention you need to be able to hear your targets as well as see them. Now today's activity is simple. Target practice with moving targets. Rather than a simple shooting gallery, you'll be firing at ducks. They're not real, so there's no animal cruelty involved. Pick yourself a weapon, step forward to one of the marks on the ground," Price pointed to where three white lines had been placed at the edge of the clearing in the grass. "And you'll find the ducks will show up soon enough. Take a few shots, and Miss Magnus or myself will give you a few pointers."
A slightly pixelated hound popped its head out of the grass and gave an annoying, 8-bit laugh.
"I hate that dog," Price said. "Can't figure out how to shut him off, either. So, step up, one and all. And when you pick a weapon, please give your name to the class and maybe give a quick listing of your weaponry experience."
And so began the first class.
[ooc: Please wait for OCD Open and ready! Pre-written with the help of the lovely lovethenubbins]