2020-01-28 - Killhouse Powerhead


A cyborg, a mutant, and a training facility set up for live fire exercises.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Jan 28 02:15:59 2020
Location: RP Room 2

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Theme Song



It's time that these two take things to the next level. Shooting at a charity event is all fine and good but neither of these fighters would ever be content to put a few holes in unmoving paper targets. Short of them getting involved with an actual gunfight, something which Domino had certainly considered more than once but had chosen to avoid, options are somewhat limited.

There is a place in upstate New York, however… Nested within the hills is training ground which isn't normally open to civilians and still isn't open to the public today. Dom happens to know a guy. Cash or bribery may or may not have been involved. Not many people are lined up for a turn at the killhouse today but there's a window open for the albino and her plus one.

Posse would have gotten the text a day or two in advance to the tune of 'Hey Robocop, wanna shoot some shit?' complete with time and location.


There's something different about the pale lady today. She's down those extra several layers. In fact, she's wearing little more than a very close fitting matte black suit and her collection of working gear which includes tall armored boots and a web harness full of goodies and a drag handle across the back shoulders. She's also got FOUR pistols about her person. Already there are a couple of servicemen snickering to each other on the side at her expense. Get a load of this chick! Who does she think she is, an action hero?

As eye-catching as the albino's attire might be, the arrival of her plus one threatens to be even stranger. Rolling into the parking lot with the silence unique to an electric motor, Posse's distinctive cycle comes to a stop in the motorcycle parking space and a dual kickstand drops beneath it as the cyborg slides off one side. She's dressed perhaps disappointingly similar to her previous attire; jeans and a denim jacket seem to be her preference, but the unmistakable new addition of a thick nylon case on her back stands out as strange as it is tall - a full three feet in length and stretching clear above her head even as it sits low on its shoulder straps. But at a shooting range of all places, it's not hard to recognize a rifle case for what it is.

Giving her ride a last glance as she walks away and receiving a flash of headlights as the vehicle 'locks' itself, the white-haired vet turns her attention back forward and gives Teena a one-armed wave.


"Well shit, don't you look tactical today," she greets with an amused smile that makes her eye flash in a passing beam of sunlight.

That electric bike is a subtle sound, particularly with the local ambience being what it is. The rider's voice is another story. If not for recognizing the tone Neena might have already forgotten that she never used her real name OR her codename with the vet. Looks like she's back to being Tamara Winter today and -damn- is it a good thing that her contact isn't here at the moment as he'd probably make an even bigger mess of it all.

"Only the best for you, Anodyne" she teases back with a black stained grin. Then with an upward tick of her chin, she asks "The hell'd you bring to the party, a Barrett? Glad I brought some ear pro."

As the only two women here (and pretty damn striking ones at that) they've become the local entertainment for the 'elite operator' crew standing about with tricked out AR15's and Glocks aplenty. They may be one of the reasons why this facility isn't accessible to the general public.

A pair of pistol mags she had been loading get rapped together to seat the rounds then slid into a pair of mag holders before she grabs a plain black knit hat to stuff onto her head. Yeah, so she's not completely 'over' being cold but something must have changed there.


Off to the side one guy taps his buddy and makes some suggestion about 'showing them how it's done' to the chorus of chuckles. With gear in hand they head toward the RSO to line up.

"Old the best for you, Spot," Posse rebuts with a smirk as she tugs one shoulder of her pack without seeming to notice the weight. A glance is passed towards the men present and the cyborg's eyes study them in passing. "Friends of yours?" she asks casually, as if she had only barely noticed them nearby.

The albino's amusement wavers with a rolling of eyes. "Just some tactical tryhards. I'd offer some words of wisdom like 'don't let them psyche you out' but with you I know better. Now c'mon, what's in the pack? You can't keep me running on standard issue sidearms and a couple of relics many times older than I am. Quit bein' such a tease."

By comparison her sidearms of choice are left right in their holsters. A pair of HK VP9's hang beneath her arms while perched at the outside of each hip is something ..decidedly nastier looking. Extended mags, probably in the ballpark of twenty rounds each. Built in compensators on fixed barrels. Spiked handguards which absolutely -no- market would have allowed, clearly custom work there. But a real keen eye may pick up an extra control on each of them which a gun-savvy individual might consider a giggle-switch. Select-fire pistols are a thing..and they're usually not legal.


"Well ya' didn't say what we were shootin'…" Posse trails off suggestively as she looks back to her pack with an innocent smile while swinging it loose of one shoulder. "But I see you brought an extra pistol for me. That was thoughtful."

Moving over to a setup table, the veteran drops her load onto it, where the nylon case resounds with an all-too-solid thud for its soft-looking exterior. Running her hand along a fingerprint control, Posse purses her lips thoughtfully even as she steals another glance towards the RSO and assembled shooters, never leaving them entirely out of her sight. "Shoot house here, right? You hoping we go pistol-a'-pistol or is this freestyle?"

Domino hooks a brow upward at the suggestion that she brought an 'extra' pistol for Posse. Ah..well…suuure..! In a pinch she -could- share one or two of them but honestly it hadn't been her intention! It isn't even luck that she has extras, whenever she's on the job four sidearms tends to be her normal base loadout.

Ava wins this round.

"Freestyle," she confirms while wandering closer to the table. One hand shifts onto her hip. The other comes to the back of Posse's shoulder, the touch casual but affectionate. "Shoot what you bring. Or in this case shoot what -I- bring," she adds with an idle shrug. "I'm only gonna be judgemental if it's a Saturday Night Special. You've got better taste than that, right?" she pushes with a grin.

"I'm teasin'," Posse assures with a look back to Domino, speaking directly in a short pause in their normal banter. "I'm not gonna' shoot someone else's gun unless I'm offered. I've got *some* manners."

"Well!" she rejoins, turning back to the case and tapping the panel for option 2 of 4 before pressing the fingerprint sensor. "You tell me if I do but this shoots one or two other days in the week," Posse explains as an inner lock releases with an audible click before the green-eyed vet parts the zipper and lifts the lid of the case, exposing a foam-lined interior tenderly supporting… the black frame of an AR-15. Accessories are spread along the roof of the case and there are more than a few personal touches that reassure the former operator didn't go with the cheapest build she could find. A short barrel and fancy can are the most distinctive features, and only combined flirt with the 16" limit. A collapsible stock, wide safety switch, and enlarged trigger guard augment the lower, which also has a pronounced flare to its mag well. She even got an upper with a forward assist.

Dom hangs her head with a somewhat defeated expression. "You had me going. I'll try to be less accomodating going forward."


Then..finally..she gets a proper glimpse of what Ava's been hiding in her 'extended' arsenal. Tried and true, just like with her two pistols, but also tricked out. It's a system which Neena is intimately familiar with. Its controls, operation and construction had been hammered into her head for nearly a decade of her youth then continued to see steady use for another dozen years running.

Every component is given a look over as if she's seeking something to be judgemental about, searching for -some- corner which Ava might have cut in its build. But she isn't a wall-hanger. She's built for war.

"If you can run this girl half as well as she looks we're gonna crush those fools" Neena suggests with just a hint of malice. Turning to look at Ava, she adds "You know what this means, right? -You- get point." The 'point' is driven home by messing with the cyborg's white hair. "Big guns have right of way. I can shoot around you."

There's a comforting thought.

Did those other two make it through the house yet? Honestly she stopped paying attention. Those boys'll have to brag amongst themselves.

"Oy, if you've got a new toy for me I'll sure as f*** put some rounds through it," Posse backpedals quickly in case the albino took her now too seriously. The fancy shooters at her hips were not at all missed.

Besides the protest, Teena is given peace to study her weapon and the vet keeps commentary to herself except to admit, "I might've spent more than I needed to." Sure enough, while there's nothing truly ornamental, there's also no shortage of quality in the smaller details. Every part might be from a different company and the distinctive flare of a flash suppressor tips the end of the barrel's perhaps permanent attachment - it does light as well as sound.

At having her short crop of hair ruffled, Posse's brow leaps and the tawny woman is even too surprised to protest the movement. "/Point/?! We're not clearing this place solo?"

"I could be persuaded," Neena hints with another smile. "Though maybe -here- isn't the best place to share the special stuff." Not to mention the RSOs are probably going to pitch an absolute fit once they see how she's going to be running her guns today.


"Quality is worth pursuing" she thinks aloud before another sidelong glance is given toward Ava. The metallic lady should be able to get behind that idea with all of the fancy cyber tech grafted onto her.

The real moment of enjoyment is saved for Posse's reaction to the idea of them going in as a team. "What, you want to lone wolf it? That's just dull. If you've taught me anything it's that our shooting games are way more interesting when done together." Case in point: The charity shoot where they had first met.

"You trust me, right?" she asks with a pointy-toothed grin. "I'm not sure that a nine would do more than tickle you, anyway. Now gear up, princess" she instructs while dropping both of her hands onto the top of Ava's shoulders.

True to expectations, Domino's hands clap down on a token covering of denim over solid metal. Posse brought her suit again.

"Tch," the cyborg scoffs, tossing her head discontently. "How the did you even find a range that'll do a stack clear? You realize this is going to be a complete charlie foxtrot," she cautions matter-of-factly but removes and preps her rifle just the same. A foregrip is added along with a two-point sling.

"Why not solo it and get more shots off?"

"Damn crazy luck" Neena nonchalantly suggests while quietly pushing beyond that particular detail.

"Hey, if you want to run the gauntlet on your own I'm not gonna stop you. But if you ask me? We can solo this shit any time we want and I'm startin' to get curious about how well we'd run as a team. Tell me the thought never crossed your mind."

If Ava ever dipped into mercenary work Dom would have called her along for a gig by now. Maybe the albino tends to prefer working alone but knowing that there is someone on hand which she could rely on in a pinch would be a valuable asset.

"If you're just looking for a round count then we can run it both ways and really let the brass rip. I've got nowhere else to be today." Not until the RSOs kick her off of the grounds, anyway.

"Well…" the white-haired vet considers more warmly as she unclogs her barrel and pulls out a magazine, flitting another glance towards the entryway from the muffled sounds of weapons fire. A terse breath escapes her nostrils before the cyborg slips on her sling and turns to Domino. "Lighted or dark? What's layout? And if you're going in with pistols, you win point. Bigger gun gets the rear," Posse concludes with a thinly veiled smile. Why yes, she might have thought that very thing just once or twice.


"Lighted. Even with enhancers I couldn't swing a tag-team in the dark. Double trouble's pushing it enough."

Aha, now we're talking! Ava gives in but it comes with the condition that Domino's up front. "In the interest of full disclosure, if you burn me with your suppressor I'm not going to be happy" she says before holding a folded up brochure looking thing for the cyborg to take if she wishes. "Room layout's in here." And she isn't saying whether she already looked it over or not. Naturally the smart move would be to examine the hell out of it but what good is having a luck power if you don't push it once in a while? She has faith in herself, for better or for worse.

Meanwhile the other team is coming around the back with weapons clear, hootin' and high-fiving like they're kings of the world.

Dom turns and yells back "You boys celebrating having only one GSW in there?"

One guy flips her off. The other is a little more crude in his non-verbal response. "Come on, Whiteout! Quit stallin' and get yer bitch ass in there! Soon as you lose I get a free beer!"


"If you don't want to burn don't grab the shaft so hard." Posse grins as Dom accepts her condition and closes her case, leaving its flashlight attachments untouched. Accepting the paper, she opens it and scans through, studying the layout with the swiftness of practice rather than haste, then looks up again at Domino - green eyes meeting blue. "Okay Point, how're we moving? You like bullets in your left side or your right?"

As the first group files out and raises a commotion, the cyborg looks over again - or even it seems, the moment before they file out. A coolly raised brow follows the mention of a beer and little more seems to warrant the older woman's notice. "You boys got a bet on us? What kind?" she asks casually.


"You're tellin' the wrong person, babe," Neena replies with a head-twitch back to the other two now stepping out of the house. To Ava's question she responds with one of her own. "Right-handed? Then stay on my right. I've got your weak side."

Then Posse has to go and call the two tactigoons over. Whitey slowly turns around and catches the edge of the table behind her, cooly eyeing the two one after the other. She'll hold her thoughts for the moment.

What kind of bet? The one guy's looking fully at Ava when he answers. "Check it, you're gonna score way better than dropout gamer here. Only thing she's gonna hit with those toys is herself."

"Hell, I'd -rather- shoot myself than listen to you prattle on," Neena cuts back.

The other guy's quick on the response. "Oooo, we got ourselves a badass here, boys!"


"Well she is kitted to run through like Trinity or fall flat on her pasty white face," Posse supplies coolly while giving Domino a confident glance. "I'll put down a twenty that we beat your time," she offers to the two men as a hand comes to rest on her rifle's upper. "I won't even ask for a senior discount."


The one guy's gone and backed himself into a corner without realizing it. If he doesn't accept the bet then it proves he isn't confident that they're better than the two ladies. Of course he has to do the macho thing with squinting a little and leaning forward when he says "You're on."

Dom's expression almost immediately brightens. "Looks like drinks are on these two tonight.

Before either can retaliate she's pushing right past them on the way to the course's entrance.

Hey… Weren't there TWO RSO's before? A keen eye might notice one of them walking away, probably to hit the restroom which happens to be a bit of a hike.

Neena gives the remaining safety officer a passing smile. Surely they didn't coordinate their timing beforehand…


The white-haired vet's cool demeanor doesn't betray her satisfaction in having her bet accepted and Neena's brightness is contrasted with a quiet confidence as Posse weaves her way between the pair with her barrel pointed dead towards the ground. Safety first, after all.

Glancing towards the overhead display, the cyborg notes its list of times - the all-time and recent highs, along with the pair's own - before her eyes flick briefly about her skull as if possessed. In just a couple seconds the paroxysm passes and Posse's lips set sternly with focus as she dons a pair of earmuffs from her jacket pocket. Tucking in behind Domino, her magazine is placed in view of the RSO - who earns a moment of eye contact - and only introduced to her weapon once she's formed a two woman stack-up at the door. The sharp racking of her action comes from close behind and the weapon's can is now nearly in the blue-eyed albino's view over her shoulder. Readied in a high-port, a metal hand rests itself upon Neena's shoulder - then squeezes once.


Exactly what had it taken for this tandem clear to be allowed? So far it's a secret well kept. The remaining RSO does happen to hold Neena's look for maybe a -little- longer than usual as if to think 'don't make me regret this.'

Electronic earmuffs are dropped over her ears. Both of her spiky handguard pistols are drawn and kept at low ready. Already the two chuckleheads are joking and snickering to each other a ways behind the line. A nod is given once Ava's hand falls to the back of her shoulder.

The timer starts with a beep and immediately anyone else might question the wisdom of putting a dual pistol user in the lead. How is she supposed to—

The door bursts open with a well placed kick and the pistol shots snap out almost immediately afterward. It's a nice facility, some of the targets are stationary while others are timed to slide into view once each room is breached.

True to Dom's word she's got the left side covered, sidearms tracking individual targets rather than working as a united pair. The first target to slide into her area of influence takes the spikes right where a person's stomach would have been, shredding the target upward before the other gun drills him right in its outline of a face.

She's quick, efficient, and downright brutal with her approach. This is so not any standard military training at work…


As if to give a better contrast, standard military training itself is operating on the other half of the room. Having matched Neena's chaotic entry step for step, Posse's barrel snaps forward almost as quickly as the albino has cleared the doorway and targets begin dropping to calm and methodical double-taps. The staccato pops that bounce off the walls are almost lost in the crack of Neena's own weaponsfire - the green-eyed vet is suppressing a subsonic round.

Hugging tightly to the wall as she sweeps her sector, Posse's field of fire turns to overlap Domino's as it leaves two targets with twin holes dead center mass.


First room cleared, onto door number two. Neena doesn't wait up beside the doorframe to make sure Ava is ready to go, she should be and they don't have time to spare. A quick arm-tuck supports one of the pistols so she can reach for the doorknob and give it a quick push open, giving Posse the first approach at 'slicing the pie.' She'll have an easier time with her rifle and Dom doesn't want to take ALL of the fun!

Pushing through leaves another paper target with a serious tear across where the eyes would have been with two fresh nine millimeter holes square through the heart. There's no eye contact with Ava, no hand signals, no verbal commands… Dom just seems to know that Ava's there getting shit done in her preferred methods.

And damn, is she ever getting shit done over there.

Another room cleared and Whitey's back in front, trying to alternate who's in front with each room. Waiting for the telltale sound of Posse's suppressed rifle she rolls behind cover and goes through a well practiced dual pistol reload. It should be an awkward stunt but she makes it look easy!


Posse's rifle is decidedly less flashy in its work and despite the cybernetics hidden under her sleeves there's nothing obviously super-human going on. Whole-body coordination of steps, hips, shoulders, and eyes makes the vet's smooth movements look easier than they are, and any time she's shaving off an average run isn't coming from keen-eyed target acquisition and a blazing trigger finger, but rather just not making any obvious mistakes. If Neena expected to be paired with Robocop, she might even be a little disappointed.

Despite its smaller magazine, Posse's own firearm is offering its brand of pinpoint fire without any pause in the third room. A near-empty mag poking slightly out of her pocket hints at the discrete tactical reload made as she was backing the albino in the previous room.


Brass and bullets mark their passing until the last door is reached and another loud beep can be heard. Every target's got multiple holes in it, most from bullets but some from the albino's pointy stabby bits. They probably won't score those but given their combined performance it's not likely to hurt their score one way or another.

Then comes the call to show clear. In Dom's case the two partial mags hit the wood floor and the slides are racked by hooking the rear sights on the edges of hip belts. Again the one remaining safety officer gives her a semi-lingering look but lets it go after she gives him an innocent smile.

The 'damage' done by the two inside of the house is anything but innocent. Outside the two jokers are still going at it when one of them looks over with a bit of surprise showing behind black safety glasses. "Hey..how long was that?" he half mutters to his pal.

When a new time is posted onto the board it's better than the one which came before it.

The guy who took Posse's bet calls out "Oh sure, just rush your way through—"

The score gets posted next. It's also better.

"Plus one for ladies' night!" Neena says in a cheery note.

The two 'operators' are suddenly looking lost for words.


Posse's posture relaxes as she steps out behind Domino, back to her full height sans crouch and already beginning her clearing sequence before it's called. Unlike Neena's, the mag for her AR finds its home back in her pocket and the empty chamber is presented fully for inspection. "Nice moves," she asides to the albino.

As she returns to the lobby area and the times appear overhead, the green-eyed vet grins while approaching the man she bet with. "Pure practice, boys." A glance is given back to the dual-wielding pistolero in the tight black suit. "And whatever the that was."


"I was checking you out, too" Neena offers back with a grin. "Your live fire comfort zone's an easy read."

While Posse is moving ahead to deal with other guys Whitey's doing a bit of cleanup, retrieving mags and having a little talk with the RSO. Probably something along the lines of 'this didn't happen.'

The non-betting guy looks to the other. "That 'dropout gamer' chick just—"

"I KNOW" the first quickly cuts in while bringing out a wallet and holding a folded twenty out to Posse. It's all the sweeter because he looks really irked while paying up! "This is bullshit. I don't know what the hell kinda trick you two were using but it's not happening again."

Making her way back to the others Neena's acting all casual. "Whew! That's some fun in there, ain't it? So how'd we do, any—oh wow, would ya look at that" she says while feigning surprise. She points at the board and looks back to the two guys. "Is that really ours up top?"

"Get stuffed" the betting man snorts while turning to walk away.


Posse can't help but smile as she takes the money. The discomfort really does make it all the sweeter.

"If you never get beat in shooting you use the wrong ing range," she chuckles before diverting to her case to store her weapon again, allowing the man his retreat. "Train how you fight!" the vet adds spiritedly to the pair.


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