[Locked to Vax] Butts and Bullets
Mar. 13th, 2017 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_rontiumIt was a bright, sunny, fuckin' hot day out and, well, shit MacCready was just glad it seemed like it was done raining for now. Probably it'd pick up again. It seemed like that kinda world. At least it was just regular rain. Still, every time a storm rolled in, he had to look up and check to see what color the damn clouds were.
He was stretched out on the ground with Good Intentions, unwilling to waste any of the ballistic rounds he had on him for Lucy. He was barefoot and in the most hideous shorts he'd ever seen, but hell, he kinda loved them. Clothes didn't come in colors that bright back home, not outside of Nuka World and he sure as shit didn't want to know how the raider gangs had managed it. All the color was probably the best thing about that place.
A lit cigarette was dangling at the corner of his mouth. He focused on his breathing, on the target he'd set up, on the direction of the wind and the way the blood in his veins was pumping. He pulled the trigger, hitting the target dead center. The shot was louder than he would've liked normally. Energy weapons couldn't be silenced for the most part. At least he'd never found one that managed it. It was bullshit that even the institute seemingly couldn't figure out a way to shoot a laser without alerting the whole damn city to it.
He nodded to himself and adjusted his grip on the gun so he could ash his cigarette into the grass and make a few notes on some stupid notepad with seashells and crap on it. He was having to compensate too much for the weapon. He'd need to find some tools and recalibrate it soon.
He was stretched out on the ground with Good Intentions, unwilling to waste any of the ballistic rounds he had on him for Lucy. He was barefoot and in the most hideous shorts he'd ever seen, but hell, he kinda loved them. Clothes didn't come in colors that bright back home, not outside of Nuka World and he sure as shit didn't want to know how the raider gangs had managed it. All the color was probably the best thing about that place.
A lit cigarette was dangling at the corner of his mouth. He focused on his breathing, on the target he'd set up, on the direction of the wind and the way the blood in his veins was pumping. He pulled the trigger, hitting the target dead center. The shot was louder than he would've liked normally. Energy weapons couldn't be silenced for the most part. At least he'd never found one that managed it. It was bullshit that even the institute seemingly couldn't figure out a way to shoot a laser without alerting the whole damn city to it.
He nodded to himself and adjusted his grip on the gun so he could ash his cigarette into the grass and make a few notes on some stupid notepad with seashells and crap on it. He was having to compensate too much for the weapon. He'd need to find some tools and recalibrate it soon.
