A/N: Hello ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to my newest writing project, stepping into the backdrop of GGO for a change!
Be sure to critique, I need it for what I'm experimenting with.
Enjoy!
[Enter your password: ]
[****]
[Login Successful!]
[Welcome, Geiger25]
A vista of weathered cerakote and orange opened before him, his blonde figure clothed in light blue uniform. Spires whose exterior consisted of tarnished white and soft light blue surrounded him, their shadows shrinking steadily with a brightening sky. Pedestals held statues beneath overlapping roofs, whose gazes faced a rising sun to the west. Forming out of a streak of green light, however, a figure stretched out beside Geiger.
"And for sixty bucks we get," he said, "pointed roof buildings!"
"Wrong game, Dan."
"Wrong name, Gay-ger."
A chuckle left Geiger, walking close beside the lanky figure. Praetor was his name in game, but Geiger recognized his softly shaking posture from the several new arrivals flooding around them.
"How do you pronounce it?" Geiger asked.
"Pray-tor," he said, eyeing the crowd around them. "It's Latin, isn't it cool?"
"With or without the numbers?"
Praetor looked blankly past Geiger, contemplating what to say to this. Geiger nervously glanced around, scooting closer to his friend as crowds scattered down the sidewalks, doing his best to avoid eye contact. Self inspection, however, brought him to a widened expression and hunched shoulders.
"Hey, why didn't we get avatars?" Geiger said weakly, "everyone can see me!"
"So?" Praetor asked before checking himself, "damn, looking good in blue."
"Dude, you know how I bad I look."
"C'mon man, you're the only one saying that. Besides, someone might like you here."
"Might?"
"You know what I mean, you insipid Grinch. Quick, think guns."
"But I've never held one," Geiger said weakly, "what if I screw up?"
"You die, respawn, die, get trash talked. Repeat."
Geiger groaned, knowing full well Praetor's desire to poke fun. Behind them by a few meters, a woman of orange-red hair and pale complexion inched aside from the river of pale blue uniforms passing her. Watching as dozens flowed down highly organized street blocks, Niirox's green eyes looked on with a budding wonder.
Is this what being in a city's like? Can't even imagine what Japan's streets are like!
"And you?" Geiger asked.
"Oh I get to watch you get-"
Praetor's grin dropped, a toaster-sized drone lowering itself to his eye level with a glowing '!' floating above it. Its monitor lit with a flickering start, A cartoonish face forming with a smile.
"Welcome to Nouveau Muhl, Benevat! I'm here to act as your guide, to help you understand your assignment!"
"Oh sweet Jesus!" Praetor said with a groan before slapping it away, "No."
Motors whirred hard as the drone left off a sharp chirp in alarm. Its monitor shut off, the machine abandoning Praetor as Geiger's swooped in.
"Dude, it's a tutorial bot." Geiger said, "Not Merlin the lore dump."
"It's close enough!" Praetor said, stepping hastily forward.
While a similar drone lowered to assist Geiger, a fleeing Praetor was of larger concern to him. Geiger hurriedly matched his pace, disappearing into a crowd of other new players in hopes of sticking close. Within seconds, Nirrox received her own automated guide, meeting this drone with calm confirmation. Leading her at a slow speed, her distance remained considerable from groups.
"Gun Gale Online offers some of the most authentic battlefield experience in the industry, with new weapons, vehicles, and other assets swapped in every season!"
"Gonna shoot this thing the second I get the chance," Praetor said.
Before all three, however, were several highly trafficked plazas. From thirty foot laser bulletins flickered a continent, its breadth flush with entire chunks in flashing yellow, solid blue, green, white, and purple. Where Geiger's eyes focused on, however, was a beast of rotary blade and steel. Long like a limousine, its controlled descent kicked up loose material all around the plaza.
"Chopper for East Chourbrout!" a loudspeaker said, "Hibiscus Brigade members preferred!"
"Hey," Geiger said, pointing at the helicopter's occasional drift. "That's player driven."
"I'm gonna say it," Praetor smiled slightly, watching as it's back hatch filled with troops.
"Please don't," Geiger said, a similarly bemused expression growing.
"Get to the choppa."
Geiger groaned, burying his face behind fingers as Praetor maintained a smug expression, only to resume a brisk pace at an encroaching tutorial bot.
"Don't care to join a battle? Wanna take it easier? Gun Gale Online now offers living quarters for its players! Bring your friends, watch videos, play cards, drink, or enjoy the solitude. "
Niirox's eyes faced Nouveau's streets, glancing only to watch as a full chopper sailed overhead, taxi-ing its newest batch to a field known only by name. Finding signs referring to an international "exchange" drew her gaze, leading her down differing crosswalks. Fewer tread these sidewalks, a reduction in conversation bringing out loudspeakers.
"Remember Benevats, your home depends on you!"
"Temperatures continue to plummet throughout the provinces. Benevats, protect your families!"
Real positive messages here. If that's true, which I doubt, The Vilsont Federation's got good reason to move in. Now, where's that Japanese exchange site?
"Remember," Geiger's tutorial bot said, "vehicles can be purchased at the Copper-feit for Au-don! Sales are changed every month, so save up!"
Geiger's shoulders slumped as crowds parted, crosswalks filling with hundreds as options provided differing paths. Given greater space, his eyes caught on to a new sight, of which he couldn't ignore. While barred with thick steel and possessing a narrow doorway, it was a fluorescent lit wall of guns driving him closer.
"Don't jump," Praetor said, "cause I'm about to-"
Praetor's attention is averted, watching as a player strode by. Unlike the others, this figure's limbs shined in metal, joints thumping with hydraulic pressure as dense feet met concrete. From his back held a
"Hell-o," Praetor said, "hey man, gonna need a sec."
"Why?" Geiger asked.
"Wanna ask how he got that gear!"
"Uh."
Geiger's last uttering fell on distant ears, his friend chasing his target with complete focus. Crossing arms tightly, a few quick looks over his shoulder brought him to trying the door. He entered, a rush of warm air greeting him as an emporium of guns opened around Geiger. His eyes bulged, with holographic pedestals displaying entire libraries worth of ballistic tools, players cycling through selections. Approaching one, Geiger's fingers quickly went to work, scrolling from model to model, ignoring his tutorial bot's rambling.
I don't recognize any of these guns, but they're gorgeous. Wonder what they have in the sniper section.
While bolt actions of varying size were inspected, none garnered more than a momentary peek. Semi automatics, also known as Designated Marksmen Rifles resulted in similarly lukewarm reception. It wasn't until a particular model loaded, did Geiger's mind fill with imagination's spark. This weapon was long, extending to a length well past four feet. Its stock resembled a club, its sleek black coloration matched with a cheek rest, whose mass almost overlapped its entirety. With a barrel extended far beyond a wide polymer handguard, its exterior a perfectly smooth darkened steel. Being five foot ten, this weapon's barrel reached well past his belt line. A single name repeated in Geiger's mind, his fingers curling.
PSG-1, the Präzisionsschützengewehr. Apparently this was a police issued weapon in Western Germany during the Cold War. Its accuracy score is incredibly high, though its damage isn't great. Just beautiful, how sleek all of its architecture comes together. Better ask around, see if anyone knows where to get this.
Several streets away, Niirox's path drew her to a larger intersection, whose streets opened far wider than others. The ground softly shook as she walked, trembling concrete yielding to a throaty set engines unseen. It grew louder every moment, Earth quaking in recognition of what approached. Heeding this entrance, she stopped to observe what arrived. From a white and blue midst, a dozen shapes turned the corner. Their silhouettes were squat, their profiles a whopping twelve feet wide, with armor sloped and divided all around. Half a thousand tons of steel thundered forward with hungry engines, leaving Niirox stunned as they grounded dust beneath them.
Standing at only five two herself, these seven foot monstrosities of diesel, armor, and gun commanded respect. Their turrets drew shadows over her as she watched them roll past, their caterpillar treads crushing loose gravel and debris with heartless impunity. Nine feet in length, the barrel of its gun resembled a lance of hardened steel, her heart beating at their auditory resonance, how nature itself seemed to give way for them.
Guess the Copper-Feit's got customers, I see players driving those things. Cause I totally wanna be walking around with those rushing me! Before I make a move though, I should check their prices.
Walking parallel to these, Niirox was left frail inside. She was ignorant of their full potential and she knew it, having only the cold sweat of fear to educate. To her right, however, was a glowing sign. The International Exchange, heels turning as she made her way inside what appeared to be an outdoor market. Hundreds gathered in pockets, from brightly colored pavilions to small tents filled with equipment.
"Fresh from the front! Buy what the clans fear!"
"Triple S class RPK! Godly wep for sale!"
Some signs were written in Japanese, others in English, and others still in varying European languages. Niirox silently observed these sales, listening as some spoke their native language. In her moment of pause, however, one player approached.
"Please," he asked, "some money, Miss?"
Niixos went straight for her menu, the beggar quickly approaching with restrained joy. Out of her starting balance of five hundred Vilsont Marques, a hundred was given without pause. Taking this sum for examination, his grin was obvious.
"Hope this helps," Niirox said with a smile.
"Thank you!" the beggar said, retreating to his corner while counting his gains.
A warm shiver ran through Niirox, her step lightened as she continued her way down crowded spaces. Right and left sides filled with the shouts of auctioneers, whose wares varied, as well as currencies.
"Buy L eighty five!" one said, "we take US Dollar!"
"Excuse me," another said, approaching Niirox, "could you spare a little for me? I really wanna buy this gun."
Niirox's eyes glanced where he pointed, nodding before depositing fifty Marques. The stranger grasped this sum, tapping it to read its total value. His expression, however, only grew darker.
"Only fifty?"
"I kinda wasn't expecting all this?" Niirox said with a shrug, "I'm sorry, I don't have much."
"You can give more than that, I saw you."
"But."
"But what? Why did he get more?"
Niirox shut her mouth, hands digging into pockets as she stared defensively.
"Is it cause I'm ugly? Huh? You got something against me?"
Niirox's stare turned troubled, backing from him with a widened expression, leaning back slightly before skirting around him.
"Think you're too good, huh?"
"I said I'm sorry?"
"Then why're you running?"
He followed her with a reddened face as she retreated, driving Niirox to move faster. Her bright orange hair, however, left her easy to identify in a sea of ebony and brown. Scrambling past with as many apologies as she could, Niirox found herself looking around.
Why is nobody helping?
"You don't deserve nice guys like me! I should've just waited outside of town!"
Niirox picked up her feet, running faster from this beggar in hopes of avoiding further communication. His shouts, however, wouldn't dissipate, he was keeping up. It was then she remembered one factor, hands motioning through her menu.
This is a gun game, I don't have to take this!
Hitting [Equip], a weapon of black plastic formed in her hands, its stock extending past her side. Its short front profile hid a full length rifle barrel, a carry handle extending from its polymer nose to its midsection. Niirox pointed it hastily at her pursuer, yanking the trigger of her [FAMAS F1] with little control.
Much to her surprise, fully automatic fire left the weapon bouncing and rising, its twenty five round magazine spitting. Bullets sprayed so fast its sound resembled the tearing paper, sparking and scattering pieces of loose rock and concrete as it skipped. All twenty five rounds emptied, their casings plinking against concrete.
A smoking barrel would leave one surprised, and another laughing.
"You idiot!" the beggar said, "there's no pvp here!"
Niirox's expression dimmed, her eyes lowering with a sigh. He approached, putting his hand out again.
"Now be nice to me, the other fifty."
She refused to give eye contact, a frown present as her weapon lowered. Raising her right hand, she cycled through the menu.
So much for playing this. Getting chased by this creep wasn't my idea of fun. Wait.
In her scrolling, Niirox found the player's profile, along with a [Block] option. Hitting it without hesitation, her pursuer vanished without a hitch. Standing still, she waited with open ears for any commentary. With only auction calls being audible, however, a wave of relief washed over. Putting her weapon away, her green eyes returned some color.
Oh, I'm definitely gonna miss him. Gentlemen like him are oh so rare after all. Okay, five minute break.
From vehicles and guns, to parts and optics, a little of everything was traded out to the highest bidder, or the lowest sales price. One such auction proved larger than the rest, its object not on display. Signs indicated it as a "Mystery Box" auction held by a clan named UWU, its minimum winning value resting at a hundred thousand Marques. Approaching, Niirox's gaze caught sight of a select figure in this auction's crowd.
His high cheekbones, pale narrow face, and pillow-soft aquamarine hair brought a distinctly Japanese identity to him. Paired with a form fitting coat and neck tie, his business man appearance left Niirox trembling. His eyes had a sharpness about them, his lips small and neutral with a serious demeanor. Yet his eyes were a bright purple, pairing with his wildly dyed hair to form a concoction of formality and rebelliousness, of which she could not resist.
Wow, who are you? Mm, what if he said hi to me? Yes, that's all I'd say. Whatever he'd ask, yes. Wait, what if he actually spoke to me? Oh no.
Niirox remained where she stood, listening as the man rose from his seat with a raised finger.
"Eighty five!"
"Eighty five k, I've got eighty five k!" the auctioneer spoke snappily, "eighty six?"
Another hand rose, raising its price once again. Looking at this handsome stranger, she noted his prompt decision, challenging back with another bid with great projection. Accepted, he watched carefully for a response by his competition. In his search for challengers, however, he spotted Niirox's stare. She averted her gaze, failing to see a mild grin form in witness to her blush.
"Hey," he said.
Her gaze returned, albeit with little direct contact.
"Wanna watch me win?"
Praetor's long legs picked up, forced to slow for amorphous crowds of varying sizes passing through. His pursuit weaved through with little issue, as many made room for the passing man of metal. Facing west again, a rising sun brought a sharp glare to Daniel's eyes, limiting his vision as he forced his way through.
I just need a simple lead, then I can figure it out from there!
This chase would go on for a quarter hour, with Praetor's target stopping beside a man lecturing a band of twenty players. Conversing with this figure briefly, a nod was shared before he faced the group. Calling out and waving, Praetor grabbed the cyborg's attention, a set of human eyes blinking inside a ferric shell, though his posture shifted slightly.
"A," Praetor said while stopping, "bro! How'd you get those?"
"Those?" he asked before looking to his own arms, "you mean these?"
"Yeah, those!"
Beside them shouted this instructor, "I'm gonna assume that I screwed up, because not a single one of you followed through! What happened, cause I'll say you were all damn eager to die!"
"Listen man," the cyborg said to Praetor, "pick up's coming. You gotta find a sec base."
"What?"
"Secnar, corporate faction base. Find 'em and that'll get you started."
Seconds later, a low flying helicopter swooped in, a line of rope dropping near his raised hand.
"Where can I find one?" Praetor asked, "this isn't much!"
"Southeast!" he said, "later!"
Taken away by rotary wings, Praetor looked towards his last clue, south east.
Vilsont is the Imperial faction, so clearly I'm gonna have to leave if I wanna get there. Secnar, gotta remember that name.
"What did I say before everything flipped?" the instructor asked his men, "one of you heard it, cause none of you lived!"
"You told us to charge, dude." one said.
"Only charge?" the instructor raced up to him, "or was there more?"
Praetor watched as this man cocked an arm at the trainee, pointing a finger with shaking excitement. Silence being the players only response to his instructor, a withdrawal occurred.
"In five," the instructor said sharply, "those smoke grenades would've covered you! You wouldn't be turned to little puddles o' pink soup if you heard that! Did I not make this clear?"
Silence was again all he received.
"I guess I didn't then! Very well, because I failed you once, I'm gonna go through these lessons again! Because I hate-"
"Yeah bro, I'm done."
One player walked off, a middle finger raised to this instructor.
"You're taking this way too seriously," another said, taking off a different direction, "join another clan, guys!"
"By all means!" the instructor said in challenge, "run! That's what you do when it gets tough, right?"
One by one, the instructor's twenty man team dispersed. Turning in their rifles and equipment before running off.
"You only failed yourself," he said to one.
"F off," the recruit said.
"You need to chill out," another said, "it's just a game."
"So is soccer, coward. Don't waste my time."
While their former instructor kept rigid and powerful in their fleeting presence, a grunt and bleary eyed look was evident in their absence. Praetor approached, a twinge of fire growing in his gut as the man put away all of the rifles.
"A," Praetor said.
The instructor looked over to Praetor, smiling for a second before returning to his organizing.
"Cool roleplay back there. Got me pumped just listening, you know that?"
"That's a rare one," he laughed, "I'm used to this, don't worry about me."
The man rose to full stature, his blue uniform no different from his own recruits. Praetor smiled as the instructor inspected his menu.
"Really? Cause that's awesome. So how's your day looking?"
"Could be better," he said, "clan's gonna have my head for this. Prolly gonna fire me, take the gear, lose friends, the usual. Thanks though."
"Why?" Praetor said with a smile, "I thought you said you're used to this."
The instructor chuckled briefly, looking more directly at Praetor.
"It's a numbers game. Boss wanted enough players in the clan to do bigger quests. You can imagine how this 'helped'. Caveat to ethos, not everyone's a fan."
"Oh," Praetor said with a slight frown, "so wait, could you give a pointer?"
"Sure."
"So I don't know how familiar you are with this, mean you don't look high leveled-"
Praetor shivered, hearing a familiar whirring toaster approach.
"Oh jeez, not another-"
Before he could finish his statement, Praetor watched the instructor draw a sidearm, pointing and firing with merely half a second's worth of time. Shots fired consecutively, blazing fast, its slide flying back with every shell as Praetor jumped aside. After dozens of shots its slide locked back, barrel smoking as silence returned. Looking back to a perforated tutorial bot, Praetor counted twenty distinct holes in its frame, veering his widened gaze back to the instructor.
"Never mind," Praetor said with widened eyes and a grin, "I wanna be a metal boy. Cyborg, that."
"Saw you chatting with Dodge, he told you about the quest line, right?"
Praetor shook his head.
"Mm, then I best show you what's needed. You know what an AK-M, vz.61, and Tokarev are?"
"First one, I think?"
"AK-47."
"Yeah, but isn't that old stuff? Cyborgs require higher tech, don't they?"
"Steel is universal," he said, "I'll explain."
"Will this be a lecture?"
"Doesn't have to be. How about I just show you then?"
"Please." Praetor smiled, "also, what's your name?"
"Haine."
Niirox stood beside the well dressed stranger with a quickened heartbeat, his bid standing at over ninety five grand. He barely paid attention to her, focusing solely on his prize. While her mind sought to view his slim features, the threat of eye contact stayed her. Seconds dragged as he eyed his competition, numbering a dozen surrounding him. Eyeing her for a moment, he kept focus otherwise on his peers.
"See," he said, "the trick of the game is to convince everyone else into thinking they're the fools. I want them to bid, but leave the impression that I'm ready."
"Sounds smart," Niirox said hesitantly, "I couldn't do that."
"Skeptical," he said with a soft nod, "interesting. For real though, how much did you spend in the shop?"
"Huh?"
"How much did it cost to look like that?"
He looked to Niirox's toned physique, compact in her hourglass form. While small in regards to bust, much of her was built with shape in mind. Her face turned flush, but her eyes watered with slight pain.
What's that supposed to mean? I should just wait, see what he does next. Ugh, if he's calling me ugly though I'm done.
"Well?"
"Thirty seconds!" the auctioneer shouted.
Looking away in shame, Niirox brushed hair behind her ear.
"Hm," he said, "not gonna lie, you're quite the artist."
She nodded, putting her gaze to the box being auctioned off.
I don't think he meant it to be mean, but he also wasn't gentle. Wait, that was a compliment, Kat!
"Ten seconds!"
The stranger leaned forward slightly, intensifying his posture as each moment dragged. From his right, a hand was being primed.
"Five!"
"Ninety six!" an auctioneer shouted.
"Ninety nine!" the stranger said.
"Ninety nine!" the auctioneer said with some drag, "last count aaaand."
"One twenty!"
"One twenty, and sold!"
A stray voice shouted the finishing bid, the stranger's hand gently lowered as he sighed. Niirox watched as he rolled shoulders, dusted his suit, and stepped away. Following him quietly, her eyes set on him.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He stopped, looking to Niirox briefly. His expression bore of neutrality, smiling briefly before turning to her.
"No need. This was for fun anyway. Okay, almost."
"You weren't serious about it," Niirox said as she noted, "okay. Well did you enjoy it?"
"Mhm," he nodded, "anyway, so I was gonna ask your name."
"Why?"
"If you're that good at making an attractive avatar, there'll be those willing to pay for it."
"Oh!" Niirox said with a nervous laugh, "that. Uh, thing is, I'm...I didn't spend any money."
The stranger's neck craned back for a moment, another figure in a suit approaching from behind. "Haf?"
The stranger moved to face him swiftly, his shoulders folding back as he presents a taller stature.
"You know why I'm here. Where's it?"
"I've only got a little," Haf said before passing currency, "it's a work in progress."
Quick examination yielded a stern expression from the necktie wearing collector.
"I wish I could say this'll work, Haf. It isn't up to me though, sets bad precedent."
"It won't come quicker if you don't give me space," Haf said, "even with my skills it takes time."
"I know, but the message's made. Pay up within the week, or you're getting staked till two hundred's been made."
"Two weeks," Haf said in challenge, "two and I get you more."
"Not my call," the collector said with raised hands, "if you wanna arrange that with UWU that's on you."
"Where's your CO? I'd rather be talking to him!"
"Hey, don't make this more complicated. You got a week, okay?"
Haf stopped himself, nodding before saying "I understand."
Niirox stood back in surprise, this shakedown bringing the man she only then knew as Haf to looking red faced. The collector left with his deposit, Haf staring down in deep thought.
"I didn't know the mob was a thing," Niirox said, "can't you block them?"
"Right," Haf laughed weakly, "doesn't stop them from hiring a merc. And since people treat that job line as the cool club..."
He cleared his throat, muttering "there'll be enough idiots to keep me stuck." in Japanese.
Niirox's eyes lit up, her tongue coiling in an effort to speak. In response, she said roughly in his language. "you're okay."
Haf paused, looking up at Niirox with narrowed eyes.
"Who taught you that?" he asked in English, "did your dad marry a Japanese woman?"
"I did," Niirox said, "it wasn't bad, was it?"
"Mm," Haf rested his head on one side, "I'll work with you on it. Not bad, but not perfect. So this's how you really look?"
Niirox nodded, but said nothing.
"When did you first play this?"
"Totally ten years," she said, "just today."
"Hm," Haf nodded, "you'd be drawn a lot where I'm from."
"Aw," Niirox said, "thank you."
"I wouldn't see it too highly...but sure." Haf fixed his tie, "I'm Haf, Icelandic for ocean."
"Wow, really? Why didn't you pick a Japanese name?"
"Cause I wanted something else, something less overdone. You wouldn't believe how many Japanese players pick the same name. Sakura or some shit."
"I see," Niirox smiled, "so hey, think you could help me pick a gun?"
"Don't see why not," Haf shrugged, "not like I'm gonna get knifed here. Not gonna be sticking around though, trust me. What's your name?"
"Niirox."
"Is that an Edo era name? With an x in front of it?"
"Yes." she said, "couldn't get Niiro, so I had to play with letters."
"Hm," Haf nodded, "okay then. X is silent, gotcha."
Walking out of the market with her, a stray thought crossed Haf's mind.
Wow, she is such a weeb.
"Do you know how to get a PSG-1?"
Geiger's question resulted in a momentary look from a weapon browser.
"Nope, just got this game a week ago."
"Alright, thanks."
Geiger rested on a table, staring off at his requested model.
That's the fifth person I've asked. Maybe I need to visit different places, but I'd rather have Daniel around beforehand. Why isn't he back yet?
"So watcha think, LLENN?"
Towards the farthest corner resided two players, both of whom required a stool to reach desk apparatus. Looking in curiosity, Geiger noted a lack of light blue uniforms, without so much as helmets for protection. Pink and green were their colors, custom-looking weaponry slung to their puffy clothed backs as they viewed a projection.
"Looks kinda heavy," the pink one said, "the caliber's nice though."
"Right?" the green said excitedly, "really easy to suppress, with lots of knockdown."
Looking closer at their topic of discussion, its deep magazine well and science fiction inspired profile brought a name out without pause. Smiling gently, Geiger refocused on his own pursuits.
Kriss Vectors are a thing here too, I used those in Call of Duty before! Wait, they might be more experienced players. Maybe I should ask.
Heels turned, but nothing more. His heart pounded, legs glued to the floor as he looked at the gun they discussed. Moments later both wandered out of the emporium, oblivious to Geiger's presence, let alone his unspoken question. Turned back to his spot, he frowned before nearly faceplanting the desk.
God, even in a video game I can't talk to girls! Should I just log off and hit the wiki? I'd rather not if I don't have to!
By this point, even the tutorial bot had left Geiger. Individuals stopped by, but he paid no attention. With them clad in the same blue uniforms as he arrived in GGO with, it left little chance of details as specific as he sought. It wouldn't be until a man in a suit and aquamarine hair stepped in when Geiger's attention again would be gained. For Niirox and Haf, however, a discussion had long taken place.
"Let's be real here," Haf said, "Russian stuff's the best way to start. Preferably the twentieth century stuff."
"Okay," Niirox said with a nod, "is the AK 47 good?"
"Depends on what you consider good. See, the AK platform is known for its durability, but you gotta consider the entire equation. Out here, you gotta carry your ammunition, which means weight."
Geiger looked to him, his expression softening as he looked to the redhead. Her figure drew his sight below the eyes, a brief appreciation occurring before he snapped his gaze away.
Damn, she's hot.
"Seven six two by three nine is cheap, its best application for ranges between point blank and three hundred meters. That being said, it weighs more than its five four by three nine counterpart. The first cartridge's great for dealing with infantry like nails with a hammer, but the latter's better for further engagement distances. You'd want that if you're playing a different strategy. Then comes the question of receivers."
Niirox's eyes stared blankly, nodding her head in an almost robotic fashion.
"So your thoughts?"
"Where can I get one?"
"The forty seven, or the seventy four?"
"The first one."
"Seriously? A forty seven?"
"It's good, right?"
"Yea it's good, just go outside of town, shoot some Insurrection bot and you'll have one. Trust me, it's not hard. Hell, its cousin the RPK's getting a lot of hate right now!"
"Why?"
"Don't get me started," Haf said with a groan, "super low recoil, extra long barrel just a mod away from great accuracy, AK reliability. It's considered god tier right now and it infuriates me. Why should I bother going through the effort of being unique when I'm just gonna get crushed by some drooling idiot with his dime a dozen RPK?"
Geiger approached, with Niirox doing little besides listening and nodding.
"Excuse me," Geiger asked, "do you know anything about the PSG-1?"
Haf stopped his rant, looking over his shoulder to the brown eyed blonde.
"The PSG-1?"
"Yes please," Geiger asked softly, "I just got this game, but I really wanna know."
"Odd weapon to get all excited for, you have any idea how much that thing weighs? What it's for? Anything?"
"No?" Geiger asked excitedly.
"Seven point two kilograms, that's not counting ammunition either. That weapon system was specifically designed to not be moved around with, as it comes with a tripod instead of a bipod."
"I don't do kilos," Geiger said weakly. "How many pounds is that?"
Haf looked up with fingers stroking his chin, a pause in conversation growing.
"That's roughly," Niirox said slowly, "fifteen point eighty eight pounds?"
Both men looked to her with alerted expressions.
"What?"
"How?"
"I..." she hesitated, her face turning red, "don't ask."
Haf shrugged, looking back to Geiger. "Fifteen pounds, does that sound heavy?"
"Yeah," Geiger nodded, "but I can raise my stats, can't I?"
"Only so much. The ammo type it uses is also heavy, being seven six two by five one."
While discussion continued, Praetor and Haine stepped through with an anxious pace.
"Bro!" Praetor said cheerfully, "there you are."
Geiger glanced Praetor, "what do you mean there I am? You moved!"
"Let's stay focused," Haf interjects, "that gun you want may be S class, but for its weight, difficulty acquiring it, and range compared to others, it's nothing special."
"What gun?" Haine asked.
"PSG-1," both Haf and Geiger said without a hitch.
Haine's expression lit, his lips pressed together as he nodded before eyebrows furrowed. Of everyone present, Niirox paid some attention to the former instructor. While roughly similar in height to Geiger and Kenta, his physical presence had a forcefulness to it.
"Hold on," Haine said before turning, "how's that nothing special?"
"It's just a battle rifle with some mods," Haf said, his attention averting to Haine. "Anyone could take an FAL or PSL and make it good too."
"That's not cheap though," Haine objected, "granted, neither is the sg. But what about uniqueness?"
"Exactly!" Geiger said excitedly.
"If it's that we're going off," Haf raised a finger, "then I'd definitely say yes. Nobody uses it. Shame too, cause-"
Niirox and Praetor looked to each other, idly standing by as all three ranted in excitement about the gun.
"It's like a verbal threesome," Praetor said.
Laughter burst out from the puffing face of an otherwise silent Niirox, putting a hand on her mouth shortly after. "That a good or bad thing?
"Not sure," Praetor stared on as they discussed, "what's your name?"
"Niirox."
"Praetor. Was looking at some tanks on parade earlier."
She looked to him with excitement.
"You saw them too?"
"Heck yeah, I gotta get one of those! My newest bro showed me around the store they got for those two."
"What were they around?"
"Think the chassis depends on weight class. Heaviest I saw was like eight hundred thousand Au-dons."
"And that translates too?"
"No clue. Pretty sure it means real money though." Praetor looked to the growing conversation, "Bro, the models?"
"Right," Haine said before leading Praetor away.
Returning to a quiet Haf and Geiger, Niirox asked "Haf, do you know how much a light tank costs?"
"I assume you mean dollars," Haf said, "depends on the build. A blank chassis' twenty five dollars. Thirty will give you a full fledged model. Anything above and it's higher end."
"A bit pricey," Niirox said.
"I could get you one," Geiger said weakly.
"What?" Niirox turned with narrowed eyes.
"Y-Yeah," Geiger's shoulders slumped, "it's not a big deal."
"Think you should wait on that," Haf said, "do you two even know how to aim a gun here?"
"You put it to your shoulder, right?" Niirox asked.
"Oh boy. Where to begin?"
Haine motioned Praetor towards three weapon silhouettes, each representing Soviet grade weaponry. From the vz.61 Skorpion, AK-M, to the TT-33 Tokarev.
"So just a reminder," Praetor nodded, "I gotta get a bunch, scrap them, and use the steel as material for their collect quests?"
"Pretty much," Haine said.
"I should probably get started now then," Praetor grinned, "time's burning up!"
"Do you even know how to use a gun though?" Haine said before intercepting, "I can help there-"
"Please, it's just a shooter!" Praetor turned to rush out, "later, man!"
Before further questioning could be made, Praetor raced past everyone, bolting out the emporium's barred door with eyes focused. Haine stared for a moment, sighing before returning to Haf's small group.
"Does he..?" Haine asked Geiger, who nodded immediately.
"It's his thing," Geiger said with a smile, "guy's always had trouble taking advice in school, unless it's shown."
"He'd hate Japanese schools then," Haf said, "you have no idea."
"But Japan scores higher than us," Niirox said quickly.
"Doesn't make them smarter," Haine said in a serious tone.
"What he said," Haf nodded to Haine before looking at him, "just makes me smarter."
Haine snorted in withheld mirth, laughing quietly while shaking his head. Niirrox, however, was not amused.
"They are smarter than us," she said to Haine, "they've got all the high tech stuff."
"Weeb please."
"Guys?" Geiger asked weakly, backing up slightly as Haine raised his posture.
"Are we really basing supremacy on waifu count?"
"Look at their tech," Niirox faced Haine, "its so advanced!"
Haf by this point had withdrawn to Geiger's side, crossing arms before observing the two.
"It's all stuff we've already made," Haine said with a grin, "I'd like to see them make something original."
Niirox at this point shut down, turning away with eyes burning. Haine pursued for a moment, asking with a broader smile "Japanese human rights, let's hear it!"
Watching her retreat, Geiger stepped up to confront Haine. "You don't have to shoot her down like that."
"Why're you fighting for her?" Haine asked with hands on hips, "oh right," his steel-gray eyes narrowed.
"What?" Geiger asked louder, "it's not that, I'm just-"
"You're doing your thing," Haine's smile turned toothy, revealing fairly protruding canines, "it's fine."
Niirox paid some attention, though mostly to Haine's attitude towards Geiger's plea for compassion.
Was so aggressive, got me scared. Way he looked at me too, like he wanted to eat my soul.
"I'm confused," Geiger said, his shoulder patted by Haine.
Geiger looked down as Haine passed him, his face warm as a coal.
Must've looked really stupid there, no way she'd take me seriously after that. It's not his fault though, this just hurts.
A bright blue flash, however, garnered his attention. Opening a flickering notification, a message from Praetor read "Help"
"Uh guys?" Geiger looked to the others, "Praetor's in trouble."
Haine laughed loudly at this, nodding before stepping beside Geiger. "Sounds like fun, let's clean up."
Haf stroked his chin, Niirox looking at him as he calculated.
Eh, I'd rather not waste time. UWUs gonna be calling.
"Insurgents?" Haf asked.
"Who else would it be?" Haine joked, "Ahn's been busy with Secnar and the underworld for weeks."
"True," Haf nodded, "sure, let's mess 'em up."
Niixor followed Haf, though kept her distance from Haine. Backed by three players, Geiger's heart rate softened, moving for where his friend list directed.
First day in and he's already exploring, as usual Daniel.
A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the pilot chapter for this newer project!
Be very sure to critique this, as I'm experimenting with third person perspectives. Was I too "telling"? It'll help me improve quickly if I'm given criticism!
Next chapter may take some time, as I wanna review this before progressing forward. Thank you, and I'll see you all next time!