[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Target Practice (Ended)
Jun 28, 2017 18:49:18 GMT -5
Post by Javelin on Jun 28, 2017 18:49:18 GMT -5
Week Two Day Five
Javelin stood back, servos on her hips, looking over her handiwork.
The room she was in was the largest in the base save for the Control Room. It was on the lowest level, recently carved out of the mountain it was in, to be used as storage. As the base expanded in numbers, it had to expand in size as well, and this room was one of a fewer new ones.
The walls were still roughly hewn stone, with a single wall of metallic shelving, although there was a large amount of space for more to be set up. Eventually, she assumed, it would be turned into a large warehouse. Fluorescent lights ran along the ceiling, casting somewhat stark light onto the room below.
Javelin had discovered it a few days ago, not that it had been a secret. The loud screeching as it had been dug out had echoed throughout the base. But it was the fact Javelin didn’t think Zoom-Zoom had settled in in any form that helped her decide on using this place for her training.
It was easily 20 paces from wall to wall, so the distance was perfect.
At the moment, the far wall had several large metallic targets leaning against them. Some were larger than others, from one a little smaller than she was, to one that loomed higher than herself. It had been difficult to drag that one down here, but she finally managed.
Now they stood, silent sentinal, red and white bull’s-eyes painted brightly on them.
Javelin hoped she would be able to keep her target practice room for a little while before the need for storage space caused more shelving to be set up.
On the opposite wall, stood a long table. Here Javelin had piled her hand made arrows. They were simple ones, made from the bits of scrap she found lying around, as were the targets. They were mostly unusable for anything else. After pestering Ratchet until the medic contemplated murder, Javelin was finally allowed to go back into the base’s workshop. Under the grouchy medic’s optics, she put together the practice arrows, as well as a few additional bows as well.
The bows, 4 of them, were of various sizes, and while not pretty, being put together from scrap, they were still useful for practice. They were an amalgamation of different metals and colors.
She had no idea who, if anyone, would bother to show.
Yesterday, she had sent out a little notice to the datapads in the base, letting the Autobots know she would be down here practicing, and if anyone was interested in learning to use one, they were more than welcome to drop by.
Unhooking her own bow from her back, she took one of the practice arrows, and moving to stand opposite the smallest target, she took up her stance.
With a practiced ease, she notched the arrow to the string on her bow, and pulled back in a smooth motion, lifting the bow at the same time. A second to line up the tip with the target, and she released. The arrow shot across the room faster than optics could follow, and sank into the target with a satisfying thunk of metal parting.
Good. Everything worked.
She moved to the targets, and pulled the arrow from the target with a squeal of protesting metal.
Javelin stood back, servos on her hips, looking over her handiwork.
The room she was in was the largest in the base save for the Control Room. It was on the lowest level, recently carved out of the mountain it was in, to be used as storage. As the base expanded in numbers, it had to expand in size as well, and this room was one of a fewer new ones.
The walls were still roughly hewn stone, with a single wall of metallic shelving, although there was a large amount of space for more to be set up. Eventually, she assumed, it would be turned into a large warehouse. Fluorescent lights ran along the ceiling, casting somewhat stark light onto the room below.
Javelin had discovered it a few days ago, not that it had been a secret. The loud screeching as it had been dug out had echoed throughout the base. But it was the fact Javelin didn’t think Zoom-Zoom had settled in in any form that helped her decide on using this place for her training.
It was easily 20 paces from wall to wall, so the distance was perfect.
At the moment, the far wall had several large metallic targets leaning against them. Some were larger than others, from one a little smaller than she was, to one that loomed higher than herself. It had been difficult to drag that one down here, but she finally managed.
Now they stood, silent sentinal, red and white bull’s-eyes painted brightly on them.
Javelin hoped she would be able to keep her target practice room for a little while before the need for storage space caused more shelving to be set up.
On the opposite wall, stood a long table. Here Javelin had piled her hand made arrows. They were simple ones, made from the bits of scrap she found lying around, as were the targets. They were mostly unusable for anything else. After pestering Ratchet until the medic contemplated murder, Javelin was finally allowed to go back into the base’s workshop. Under the grouchy medic’s optics, she put together the practice arrows, as well as a few additional bows as well.
The bows, 4 of them, were of various sizes, and while not pretty, being put together from scrap, they were still useful for practice. They were an amalgamation of different metals and colors.
She had no idea who, if anyone, would bother to show.
Yesterday, she had sent out a little notice to the datapads in the base, letting the Autobots know she would be down here practicing, and if anyone was interested in learning to use one, they were more than welcome to drop by.
Unhooking her own bow from her back, she took one of the practice arrows, and moving to stand opposite the smallest target, she took up her stance.
With a practiced ease, she notched the arrow to the string on her bow, and pulled back in a smooth motion, lifting the bow at the same time. A second to line up the tip with the target, and she released. The arrow shot across the room faster than optics could follow, and sank into the target with a satisfying thunk of metal parting.
Good. Everything worked.
She moved to the targets, and pulled the arrow from the target with a squeal of protesting metal.