Donny, Calliope, and Kyle meet on the firing range. Decisions are made as to whether or not to partake in one last night on Caprica...before things get worse.
Location: Argyros Firing Range
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1410
The Firing Range on Argyros Base has remained open now that darkness is falling. Sodium lights cast yellow-white lighting down onto the hard-packed dirt all of the way down to torso-shaped targets at varying ranges. It's a lonely place at the moment, empty save for the sole form of a recently reclaimed marine: Corporal Kyle Costello. More than half of the way down the line, she's seated in a chair with a heavy case opened at her feet. Her sniper rifle has been unpacked, put together, and rests in silence on its bipod while she looks down to a notebook she's jotting into with a pen.
With ear protection already on, and yellowed goggles over her eyes, she bites down on her lip and leans to look through the standing optical scope on the table beside her rifle...spotting her target before she test-fires.
Not empty for long. Onto the range comes Calliope. She's logging as much time on planet as she can before all the troops are back on the Dauntless full-time. But tonight, that means a little target practice rather than venturing out into Cap City. She signs in - receiving ear protection and goggles when she does, safety first! - and gets some practice ammo for her pistol.
Since suffering injuries from the night raid on Argyros by the Cylons, Donny has been taking it as fast as he's been allowed. The notion of him sitting out of action due to injuries not sustained in combat leaves a sour face in his mouth, and he's been looking grumpy for the past few days because of it.
Now he's managed to find himself in the Firing Range, not that's he's supposed to be, with his two magazines in one hand and a carbine in another. He's got his ear muffs around his neck and orange tinted shooting glasses covering his eyes. He's walking past Kyle, offering her a glance that grows a bit more curious as he realizes that she's the one that was MIA. He steps over into the firing line right of her and he rests his ammo and rifle down and his bringing up his muffs over his ears as he quietly looks over to watch the target Kyle's got her sights on expectantly.
There's a ponytail sprouting out of the back of Kyle's head that is painstakingly straight and flat. A recent cut, if the ends are any indication; the very kind of ponytail that's kept safely between her shoulders for plans later. The hours are ticking away, much closer to the time to ship out, but first...
"Evening." Kyle leans back a measure as the light above casts two shadows that move. She makes a final few scratches in mathematical equation in her tiny notebook, then twists her head left to right, looking to their faces. Calliope? A wave of familiarity, but Donny, less so. "I'm surprised to see more of us down here instead of in town. Did they deny passes because of that bar fight thing I heard about?"
"Hi," Calliope offers to Kyle. A little loudly. Ear protectors and all. She does something of a double-take at the woman. The MIA thing maybe flitters across her mind. But her manner is friendly enough and mostly she's concentrated on finding herself a firing lane. Which she does, slotting herself in near the Marine woman. And Donny, as he comes. A quick smile-and-nod are given his way.
Donny peers down the line, looking from Kyle's target to figure out his own as he loads in his magazine and pulls back the bolt on his carbine. He spends a little moment of thought before he hears Kyle speak up. "Sup, Survivor." He offers with with a side glacne and a lopsided grin. He looks past Kyle, noticing Calliope as she walks by and nodding to her as well before he looks back around to his target. "I've always kinda been space-sick." he admits with a shrug of his shoulder, bringing his rifle down to a low ready stance.
"...But I'm skipping out on heading into town this time. I don't feel like a hangover tonight." Donny shuts his left eye, raising his firearm up to peer down the sights before he opens it up again and gently squeezes the trigger once, firing a shot that goes a bit too wide. There's a grunt following the shot, and a bite of his lip as he peers down at the gun. "Right.. Bad idea." he wheezes a little, before looking back up at the target with frustration. "How about you?" he asks, looking back to Kyle, "Figured after you wanna relax after the entire MIA thing I heard about."
"Survivor." Kyle huffs a little laugh towards her rifle as she leans back in. Half of her mouth ratchets open in a smile not unlike an alley cat's snarl. She leans a shoulder in against the butt of the rifle and shimmies into firing position. "Haven't heard that one, yet. Good one."
Reaffirming her grip and lowering an eye to her scope, the rifle floats into place on its tripod and sights far, far down the range to a target. "Well, I've got a thing in about an hour, maybe two, because on the other side of the clock is a whole lot of being sick of being in space, or at the least nil access to all of those post-assault drink specials." Kyle quiets and narrows one eye. She waits in between breaths to pull the trigger.
The rifle bucks with a crack...and the round lands two inches left of target.
"Frakkin' calibrations, you know?"
"I grew up in Cap City. This place has been me more than my share of hang-overs," Calliope says with a side-ways grin to Donny. "I mean, I saw my mom. Some old friends. It was nice. But also kind of...I guess I'm ready to head back to, like, Fleet stuff." She readies her gun, but doesn't fire. More interested in watching the way Kyle works with hers. Head tilted to one side as it fires. Even a little off target. "It looks kind of...complicated. The aiming and stuff. Makes me think of math. And why I was bad at math."
The mustache'd marine is looking down at his carbine, and now he's shuffling his feet as he finds a position that's more comfortable for shooting for him. Donny finds something of the sort, lowering himself to a knee and planting his elbows down on the sandbag barrier as he's finding his target again. "Tryin' to get good at my nicknames- glad you like it." he offers with a concentrated twist of his lips off to one side.
His right finger hovers over the trigger guard, before bending back and he makes his shot again, putting a hole at the edge of his target followed by a stifled grunt. Raising his chin to look over his sights, he peers right at Calliope and lets out a quiet snicker. The mention of family drags a slow hum out of him, "It's always good for the morale to come back around and get a good reminder as to why you're fighting." he says, looking forward again, "Hopefully we get to go back around to Scorpia sometime. I still owe a dude five bucks and it's been bugging me.". Donny's looking left at Kyle again, smirking. "Yeah, all that adjusting puts me off from DMRs and full on sniper rifles." he says in agreement to Calli. "Guess you need to get used to 'em, and I'm just used to the more compact things." he says, looking back to line up another shot at his target.
"It's math. A lot of..." Kyle leans to the standing scope, a spotter's tool on its own, to look downrange. She glances to Calliope after marking her point of contact. "...math. Distance traveled per second, friction, aerodynamic drag, curvature of the planet, gravity. Train A leaves the barrel at Oh-Three-Hundred." Kyle looks down to her notebook and flops it open, picking up her pen. "So when Grandfather Caprica wants me to put a round in something on the first try, I've got to keep this baby on point."
Pat-pat. Kyle rubs the stock of the weapon and returns to her firing position. Her mouth sneers as she reaches to the scope, clicking it once.
"And then I'm going to get changed...go out...head out to Tekniklub." Kyle continues. "Did the folks thing, but like the man here says, might be Scorpia, so...I'm going to enjoy myself and be grateful we're not camped at Tauron." CRACK!. The rifle bucks once more.
"Huh. That's good to hear. Hopefully I'll pay him back before he decides to be a dink and add some stupid interest." he adds with a smirk. "I also miss the smell of that place... Might pick up one of those cheap air fresheners for nostalgia." There's a slow, thoughtful sigh from the marine before he's looking left, and then right at the talk of math. "I totally couldn't do what you two do. I'm just good at lying in mud and then shooting things." he admits, with a tilt of his head to the side. And then he's aiming again.
"Well, at least we can frakkin' agree on the drinking then," Kyle murmurs as she switches from her rifle's scope to the spotter's scope. She looks down the line and...frowns. Sourface. "But secretly I'm jealous of you air types. I love being behind the wheel, but my father would have tanned the skin off of my back if I went into any other branch. Kind of a family thing."
Kyle shrugs her ponytail back over her shoulder, careful to keep it straight so that when she's out, later, it doesn't look like she's been through a wind tunnel. It's an oddly dainty move for a marine.
"You know, Mustache, I'm paid to do this lying in the mud, too." Kyle grins as she leans into firing position again. "And since I didn't learn to be a bitch while MIA, you two are more than welcome to come out when I go, because you'll be missing these clubs when we're smack dab, stuck in communal piss-swill territory on Tauron some day. Take nice when you can."
Kyle quiets...and exhales.
Firing off a shot again, that lands in his targets lower abdomen, Donny grins a little- though there's a tinge of discomfort along with it. then he's looking left at Kyle, and offering her a wide smile of amusement. "Well sure, but I'm REALLY good at lying im mud." he says before he looks back down to his gun for a moment of rest. "I guess I should go out while I can..." he murmurs thoughtfully with eyes glancing upwards before he looks back to Kyle. "Tekniklub or somethin', right? I'll see if I can slip by." says Donny with a bit of unfamiliarity to the place. "Also, call me Donny- while I'm flattered you've noticed my beautiful piece of work on my face, I think my name has a better ring to it." he adds. On the topic of parents, Donny listens with interest to the two, before adding. "Lucky you two, with your parents doing cool stuff. Mine are just average ol' schmucks for Scorpia."
"My dad was Caprican Homeguard, yeah." Kyle eventually replies to Calliope, frowning at what she sees down range. She shakes her head minutely and looks down to her notebook, checking her math. "All that stuff about civic responsibility and how every boy of his had to serve at least four years. He about cried when I scored Recon." A beat. "Nothing so nice as commercial airline work; which must have been frakkin' nice all around." Another beat. Kyle skews her eyebrows Calliope's way. "I mean that. No sarcasm."
Kyle looks over to Donny, considering him through her yellowed glasses, before returning to her work.
"Bah, everyone's folks are just regular schmucks, Donny. I'm pretty sure even Colonel Ryan at one time had a favorite blankie." Kyle giggles coarsely and twists the y-axis of her rifle's sight to 'one' click. She grunts with frustration and leans back in. "And if I see you out at the club later, either of you two, let me buy the first round. Everyone knows I've got unused backpay while I was out of the picture. Don't want people thinking I'm cheap."
Kyle's firing lane goes deathly quiet and the sniper goes incredibly still, waiting for the eventual pull of the tr-CRACK!
"Yeah, I'll see you around, Donny. Was nice to meet you, man." Kyle lifts a wrist and hooks her fingers in a wave to him on exit. She doesn't even need to look down the range to know that her shot isn't where she wanted to place it, but it's somewhere between her brain and the rifle that's the problem. She rolls her fingers and draws her wrist back against her tank tops, chewing on her lip. "I was back to civilian life when it started." Kyle stretches her neck to look over to Calliope, then scoots her chair back.
"You know, that sweet spot where you did your tour, but they keep your number on speed dial just in case?" Click. CLACK. Kyle goes to one knee and begins striking down her equipment. "Anyways, I think this is a sign that the club is calling. I'm gonna be doing this non-stop for the next stretch of forever. I think it's about our Civic Duty at this point to end this and play at being normal people for a few hours, don'tcha think?"
"See you!" Calliope chirps to Donny. She finishes out her clip, in fairly but unremarkable fashion. She is not quite herself without a KEW cannon. "Yeah. I mean, I kind of can't imagine doing anything else right now. It's not like this is going to end anytime soon." Which makes her take a long breath. And strain her eyes off toward the city lights. "But tonight? Totally going to try and get in some clubbing. I'll see you at the bar, maybe! Or on the ship, if not." And off she goes.
Kyle waves a hand to Calliope in her exit. A goodbye wave. Yet, there's a moment where the nail Calliope hits hard on the head meets Kyle Costello's eyes. She releases a long breath of her own and looks out in the direction of the sea, sighing past all of the military buildings and equipment. "See you." Kyle calls out and then huffs, turning back down to her weapon's case.
Kyle's a bit more rough with the case than normal, but the case can stop a bullet. It will forgive her.