Post by Daniel "Danny" Fletching on Sept 1, 2015 21:16:26 GMT -5
Paintball...a game of precision, agility, and persistence. Not to mention the will to go on, because to the teenager that now stood before the practice range; one could never quite get over the sting of those nefarious paint pellets. The blonde headed young man had gotten quite good at dodging the miniscule missiles but that didn’t mean he hadn't received his fair share. Upon a quick glance, the boy became enthralled with the relatively new surroundings. A soft breeze wafting through the otherwise energetic atmosphere. The strong, pungent odor tickled at his nostrils as the smell of paint finally settled in. If it weren't for the bright enticement of the sun's rays, the man would have likely spotted the tips of the trees that shaded the perilous course below. Despite being an individual and not in any sort of group, Danny was determined to call his new hobby a "club". It had all the qualities, whether it was the fun aspect, the educational aspect (Yet to be determined), and physical aspect. Clubs could have one person right? It was embarrassing that he had to justify his loneliness but it was the only way he could keep relatively sane. Fourteen hours of sleep everyday wasn't good for a teen like himself...but that was why he needed this club. It got him out of the house. It was certainly a "day for play" as he liked to call it, faux weapon in hand as lengthy fingers wrapped along the trigger gently. Gaze narrowing to the targets that sat to his left, the circular pieces of paper billowed against the plyboards they rested against: ready to be fired upon. However he kept a certain amount of restraint, knowing well enough that certain priorities came before others. Registration for the upcoming tournament was something to do first, not a few minutes before the thing started; which regardless of his best efforts had been the case last time.
This time would be different however, as it would be the very first thing on his self imposed agenda. Quickly, he jogged his way over to the small, plastic table that awaited all new entries. It wasn’t a formidable spot in the slightest but he found when big tournaments came around the air was thick with tension. It was a wonderfully enlightening experience, that first the most part...got Danny interested in social activities again. It was comparably better than napping, which was blasphemous for the boy to even think about but it truly was. He even kept his new school in mind as he enjoyed the 'survival' games, imagining the skills the course would provide him in pursuit of fending for himself at the minimum security correctional facility. They could call it a school all they wanted but with the amount of fighting that went on there it might as well have been a fight club for underage delinquents. He couldn't even acquire a decent sleep in the place, whether it was a student slamming into a tree he'd been sitting under or just some vocal disturbance. Sometimes it was a taunt, other times he swore it was an agonizing scream or two.
"Ugh." Daniel shook his head quickly, relieving himself of the fabricated noises before hastily scrawling his name on the sign up sheet; turning away from the table with a spin of his heel. Practice range back in his sights as each step brought him closer and closer to his inevitable urge to fire off a few shots. His teenage mind had prevailed in his need for excitement, arranging himself in a comfortable position before the set of stands that hung before him. It seemed the course had upgraded to paper silhouettes as well, providing a much more realistic experience for beginners hoping to try their hand at the game. The heads carried a large, red strike however, exemplifying the course rue prohibiting headshots. That was completely within the ballpark for Daniel, he had no intention of hurting any of the other competitors. In fact, a couple of unfamiliar teens passed him by: all of them on a direct path for the actual field. The boys were rather friendly with each other, laughing hysterically with guns laid haphazardly in one hand. A small boy even received a pat from what looked to be an older twin. The sight brought a smile as Danny swiveled, his expensive looking toy already lined up for the first target.
Carefully aligning the shot, he fired off a few rounds as the sharp 'thwip' of the gun pierced his ears. It was a satisfying feeling that was replicated several more times. This cycle reciprocated itself several more times as the teen got into his groove. He wasn’t close to perfect but he did hold enough merit to hit each target he shot at. However time was not easily tracked and Danny eventually lost it all together. By the time he'd finished, a bell sounded off throughout the grounds. The match that was now taking place in the field was at it's halfway mark...and here he was shooting at immobile targets. Could he still join in? Probably not considering the event had already started, but the boy wasn't really one for following rules. So instead of staying put as he should have, he reloaded the empty magazine he'd previously wasted. A small hum escaping a rather happy young man as he stalked across the dirt, coming to the large wall that outlined the arena. Another sweep of the area proved useful, considering most of the others around were preoccupied with other things. So he flexed his fingers, reaching up with both hands; settling on an indentation that lined the wall. Fingertips pressing into the wood as he began to scrabble his way over. Hopefully no one would notice a miscreant like himself making his way into the field uninvited.
The plan went off without a hitch though, both feet sliding onto the grass with ease. The surrounding tree trunks and barricades becoming noticeable as he got more accustomed to the environment. Paintball guns were another evident sound he could make out from the area ahead. A grin coming over his features as he pushed forward, ready to show his enemies what he was made of. Unfortunately the sight he found was not as pleasant as he'd hoped it would be. The original game he'd signed up for was a team event where you didn't necessarily get out when you were hit. Instead they counted the number of hits you took through the match and add them up. It wasn't the most reliable system but it was one of the many 'modes' the company had installed. Danny himself found it fun but not so much so when it was abused. The instance he saw before him was the boys he'd come upon earlier outside. Three of the four were eagerly hiding behind nearby barricades, but one of the smaller teens had been sent to the front, many of his appendages and upper body were covered in paint. The other team had taken their time to set up a position across from them. This wouldn't have been a problem if the boy had volunteered to take the brunt...but every time he tried to duck for cover he was immediately stopped by one of his teammates. Instead being pushed out further into the middle to be fired upon.
With gritted teeth, thoughts of betrayal slowly invaded Daniel's mind. Fervently trying to calm himself as he knelt down, almost fetally curled as his gun scraped the dirt beneath. A slight sway rocking him back and forth as the 'battle' persisted. The other boy receiving no reprieve as he was mercilessly slung in the path of those painful balls. "M-m..." His voice cracked, obviously inciting emotional ties as well as newfound rage. The toy laid sprawled along the ground, Daniel's legs carrying him over it as the boys grew closer and closer. Until finally he got his hands on the largest of the group, causing the unsuspecting victim to jostle his safety glasses with a small bounce. Daniel reeled back his fist, sending it into the teenager's gut with surprising speed. A resounding 'oof' pushed past the delinquent's lips. "Motherfucker." Danny brought his balled fist back once again, aiming another strike only to falter forward next to his victim. A sharp pain dulling his shoulder blade as he rested against the barricade. Apparently one of the other boys had been brave enough to shoot him, no doubt from such close range too. Daniel's jawline firmed up, turning to face the aggressor as the blue stain that now lined his back disappeared from view. The attacker held narrowed eyes, obviously displeased that Danny had decided to attack his friend.
At this point the game had basically come to a halt, neither side making any movement to continue as the set of boys began to square off against Danny. So he adjusted himself and made his way forward abashedly. Rage still blinding his motions as another pellet splattered over his gut, the same boy having fired at him again. At this point the crowd was in disbelief that this man would still continue such unrealistic behavior, especially after being shot twice. It didn’t stop there however as another one of the bullets planted itself on his thigh. That one really stung but he'd gotten close enough to deliver a right hook to the boy's jaw, sending him to the ground with a thud. Tears slowly streaming from his eyes as the day now laid ruined before them all. Daniel couldn't help but feel taken aback at what he'd just done.... The pain bringing him back to reality as his rage was replaced with guilt. Had he really just hit that kid...they may have been about his age...but had he really done it? Daniel didn't take time to think on it, instead turning to the rest of the group slowly. His hands slowly releasing their hold on his inner palm. "I-I'm sorry...I...don't...don't ever...betray your friend like that." The young man finally remembered the whole point of his anger, gesturing to the paint covered boy quietly. Gently holding a hand out to the boy he'd knocked to the ground. "I...apologize again. It...wasn't entirely your doing that I reacted the way I did...." The other boy took a moment to digest Daniel's words, begrudgingly accepting his hand without a word. It was obvious that what they'd done was wrong, but it was equally wrong to take such wrath out on them. He'd taken wounds of his own, that was for sure. The welts that began to form along his body were none to kind on him; a move of his shoulder causing a wince to solicit itself from his eyes.
The more prevalent thought on his mind however was the urgent need to get out of here while he could. He'd assaulted two people...and once the word got out he'd likely be in even more trouble. IN fact...this was one of the reasons he'd been sent to the five five two in the first place. These tendencies needed to be worked out soon...or even more...undesirable problems would arise. A quick sprint brought him over to the exit, which was a good three minute jog. The attendant was standing there as ever, awaiting any players who didn't wish to continue...such as Daniel. The best excuse he had was the need to use the restroom, which required no further explanation as he cleared the exit. His previous jog breaking into what one could have classified as a sprint. If not for the limping nature of it all, the wounds still coaxing him into a dull sense of constant endurance. He thought the pain had been sharp when he first received the wound but now...well now it was a different form of the same pain. However...it would never match the emotional distress that he'd felt just before the incident. "I...can't keep doing this." The whisper was almost inaudible as he made his way into the parking lot. This...was why he didn’t do social activities....
(My request for this thread would be stats, constitution likely being the main example.)
This time would be different however, as it would be the very first thing on his self imposed agenda. Quickly, he jogged his way over to the small, plastic table that awaited all new entries. It wasn’t a formidable spot in the slightest but he found when big tournaments came around the air was thick with tension. It was a wonderfully enlightening experience, that first the most part...got Danny interested in social activities again. It was comparably better than napping, which was blasphemous for the boy to even think about but it truly was. He even kept his new school in mind as he enjoyed the 'survival' games, imagining the skills the course would provide him in pursuit of fending for himself at the minimum security correctional facility. They could call it a school all they wanted but with the amount of fighting that went on there it might as well have been a fight club for underage delinquents. He couldn't even acquire a decent sleep in the place, whether it was a student slamming into a tree he'd been sitting under or just some vocal disturbance. Sometimes it was a taunt, other times he swore it was an agonizing scream or two.
"Ugh." Daniel shook his head quickly, relieving himself of the fabricated noises before hastily scrawling his name on the sign up sheet; turning away from the table with a spin of his heel. Practice range back in his sights as each step brought him closer and closer to his inevitable urge to fire off a few shots. His teenage mind had prevailed in his need for excitement, arranging himself in a comfortable position before the set of stands that hung before him. It seemed the course had upgraded to paper silhouettes as well, providing a much more realistic experience for beginners hoping to try their hand at the game. The heads carried a large, red strike however, exemplifying the course rue prohibiting headshots. That was completely within the ballpark for Daniel, he had no intention of hurting any of the other competitors. In fact, a couple of unfamiliar teens passed him by: all of them on a direct path for the actual field. The boys were rather friendly with each other, laughing hysterically with guns laid haphazardly in one hand. A small boy even received a pat from what looked to be an older twin. The sight brought a smile as Danny swiveled, his expensive looking toy already lined up for the first target.
Carefully aligning the shot, he fired off a few rounds as the sharp 'thwip' of the gun pierced his ears. It was a satisfying feeling that was replicated several more times. This cycle reciprocated itself several more times as the teen got into his groove. He wasn’t close to perfect but he did hold enough merit to hit each target he shot at. However time was not easily tracked and Danny eventually lost it all together. By the time he'd finished, a bell sounded off throughout the grounds. The match that was now taking place in the field was at it's halfway mark...and here he was shooting at immobile targets. Could he still join in? Probably not considering the event had already started, but the boy wasn't really one for following rules. So instead of staying put as he should have, he reloaded the empty magazine he'd previously wasted. A small hum escaping a rather happy young man as he stalked across the dirt, coming to the large wall that outlined the arena. Another sweep of the area proved useful, considering most of the others around were preoccupied with other things. So he flexed his fingers, reaching up with both hands; settling on an indentation that lined the wall. Fingertips pressing into the wood as he began to scrabble his way over. Hopefully no one would notice a miscreant like himself making his way into the field uninvited.
The plan went off without a hitch though, both feet sliding onto the grass with ease. The surrounding tree trunks and barricades becoming noticeable as he got more accustomed to the environment. Paintball guns were another evident sound he could make out from the area ahead. A grin coming over his features as he pushed forward, ready to show his enemies what he was made of. Unfortunately the sight he found was not as pleasant as he'd hoped it would be. The original game he'd signed up for was a team event where you didn't necessarily get out when you were hit. Instead they counted the number of hits you took through the match and add them up. It wasn't the most reliable system but it was one of the many 'modes' the company had installed. Danny himself found it fun but not so much so when it was abused. The instance he saw before him was the boys he'd come upon earlier outside. Three of the four were eagerly hiding behind nearby barricades, but one of the smaller teens had been sent to the front, many of his appendages and upper body were covered in paint. The other team had taken their time to set up a position across from them. This wouldn't have been a problem if the boy had volunteered to take the brunt...but every time he tried to duck for cover he was immediately stopped by one of his teammates. Instead being pushed out further into the middle to be fired upon.
With gritted teeth, thoughts of betrayal slowly invaded Daniel's mind. Fervently trying to calm himself as he knelt down, almost fetally curled as his gun scraped the dirt beneath. A slight sway rocking him back and forth as the 'battle' persisted. The other boy receiving no reprieve as he was mercilessly slung in the path of those painful balls. "M-m..." His voice cracked, obviously inciting emotional ties as well as newfound rage. The toy laid sprawled along the ground, Daniel's legs carrying him over it as the boys grew closer and closer. Until finally he got his hands on the largest of the group, causing the unsuspecting victim to jostle his safety glasses with a small bounce. Daniel reeled back his fist, sending it into the teenager's gut with surprising speed. A resounding 'oof' pushed past the delinquent's lips. "Motherfucker." Danny brought his balled fist back once again, aiming another strike only to falter forward next to his victim. A sharp pain dulling his shoulder blade as he rested against the barricade. Apparently one of the other boys had been brave enough to shoot him, no doubt from such close range too. Daniel's jawline firmed up, turning to face the aggressor as the blue stain that now lined his back disappeared from view. The attacker held narrowed eyes, obviously displeased that Danny had decided to attack his friend.
At this point the game had basically come to a halt, neither side making any movement to continue as the set of boys began to square off against Danny. So he adjusted himself and made his way forward abashedly. Rage still blinding his motions as another pellet splattered over his gut, the same boy having fired at him again. At this point the crowd was in disbelief that this man would still continue such unrealistic behavior, especially after being shot twice. It didn’t stop there however as another one of the bullets planted itself on his thigh. That one really stung but he'd gotten close enough to deliver a right hook to the boy's jaw, sending him to the ground with a thud. Tears slowly streaming from his eyes as the day now laid ruined before them all. Daniel couldn't help but feel taken aback at what he'd just done.... The pain bringing him back to reality as his rage was replaced with guilt. Had he really just hit that kid...they may have been about his age...but had he really done it? Daniel didn't take time to think on it, instead turning to the rest of the group slowly. His hands slowly releasing their hold on his inner palm. "I-I'm sorry...I...don't...don't ever...betray your friend like that." The young man finally remembered the whole point of his anger, gesturing to the paint covered boy quietly. Gently holding a hand out to the boy he'd knocked to the ground. "I...apologize again. It...wasn't entirely your doing that I reacted the way I did...." The other boy took a moment to digest Daniel's words, begrudgingly accepting his hand without a word. It was obvious that what they'd done was wrong, but it was equally wrong to take such wrath out on them. He'd taken wounds of his own, that was for sure. The welts that began to form along his body were none to kind on him; a move of his shoulder causing a wince to solicit itself from his eyes.
The more prevalent thought on his mind however was the urgent need to get out of here while he could. He'd assaulted two people...and once the word got out he'd likely be in even more trouble. IN fact...this was one of the reasons he'd been sent to the five five two in the first place. These tendencies needed to be worked out soon...or even more...undesirable problems would arise. A quick sprint brought him over to the exit, which was a good three minute jog. The attendant was standing there as ever, awaiting any players who didn't wish to continue...such as Daniel. The best excuse he had was the need to use the restroom, which required no further explanation as he cleared the exit. His previous jog breaking into what one could have classified as a sprint. If not for the limping nature of it all, the wounds still coaxing him into a dull sense of constant endurance. He thought the pain had been sharp when he first received the wound but now...well now it was a different form of the same pain. However...it would never match the emotional distress that he'd felt just before the incident. "I...can't keep doing this." The whisper was almost inaudible as he made his way into the parking lot. This...was why he didn’t do social activities....
(My request for this thread would be stats, constitution likely being the main example.)
