Having said his piece, the captain turned and hopped down, out of sight.
For a moment, everyone stood there, silently, unsure on what to do next. That is, until the captain, now on the other side of the heater, yelled at the top of his lungs.
"THE HELL ARE Y'ALL WAITING FOR?! DON'T TELL ME YOU GROWN ADULTS NEED YOUR HANDS HELD NOW?! GET THE HELL OVER HERE! WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!."
With the captains strong encouragement, they all made their way to the other side of the heater, albeit a bit sheepishly.
What they arrived to was a captain with a wide grin and opened crates behind his figure.
Connor took a guess and figured this was the armoury. In his eyes, it wasn't much. To him, it was more like a raided shipment of weapons for those with a wild and free spirit. He kept that to himself though.
"Welcome gentlemen, this here is paradise. It might not look like much, but, that can change! Here we have crates filled with weapons and heavy ordinance. Now, the next part is simple, so don't make me repeat myself."
The Captain took a deep breath before continuing.
"Due to all of us being a plastic soldier, our purpose is war, we were created for that singular reason. So, because of our nature, we all hold an affinity for jobs and weapons, think of them as specialties. For example, there are some of you who know how to patch up wounds without even peeking at a medical textbook, they'd later become medics. Others are combat engineers. They know how to rearrange a structure into rubble, or, if they are so inclined, piece it together, creating something similar to Picasso but worse. Then there are the tank drivers, the fighter pi-, Ahem, sorry I got distracted. Anyway, whatever I was going on about, while half unrelated, still holds a connection to what I'm trying to get at. These are your innate talents. And they encompass your weapon specialties. While they aren't too diverse, there is some choice. But before you get too excited, most of you are riflemen from the get-go, sorry to burst your bubble, not really. Now, time to pick your candy and get a taste for it."
You said it would be simple...
Just as the captain was about to step away, he froze and a look of realization spread across his green face. Quickly, he facepalmed himself and gave out another piece of information.
"Sorry, forgot to point out the specific weapon crates. Those directly behind me are filled with handguns. Those over there are submachine guns, and those over there are shotguns. Now those over there, near the end, are filled with rifles and those next to them are the light machine guns. The sniper rifles are in that corner there. Anti-Tank is there."
The captain pointed in multiple directions, half resembling an orchestra conductor. When he was finished speaking, he moved off to the side, patiently looking on.
Everyone moved at once, many slightly impatient, eager to touch a gun. Connor on the other hand, stayed put, unsure on what to do.
Would he have that innate understanding of a weapon?
After all, he wasn't originally a plastic army man. Would that have any effect on this 'birth' right?.
This is what made him unsure.
So, with that in mind, he stood idly by, watching on as the others eyed the weapons like a hungry predator would prey.
Markus stood by Connor, figuring he was just shy and disliked crowds.
Before too long, the crowd had thinned considerably, most moving on to test their weapons. Only a few remained, seemingly unsure on their natural gift.
Connor, feeling it was the right time, walked forward. He went to the pistols first.
As he looked over the sidearms, he felt a small tingle, deep within.
Something like intuition or maybe a...
Tingle tang.
Yes, that's it. He felt a tingle tang surfacing.
But wasn't that a little too quick?
It was the first gun type he saw after all.
Not one to believe in love at first sight, especially in situations that led to marriage, Connor ignored the feeling and moved on.
Next came the shotguns.
Immediately, he felt it again...
The hell?
You too?
Is this normal? Was he normal?
A primary and secondary weapon, was the combo natural?
Hm.
Once again, he ignored the longing in his heart and moved on.
The SMGs came next, and once again, the tingle tang appeared.
For some reason, he felt slightly dirty. At this point he was just being unfaithful.
Moving on a hunch, he checked the sniper rifles.
His shooting stick harem added a new member.
He then went over the AT weapons, the rifles, LMGs, and even the grenades.
...
EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.
Along his journey of discovery, Markus found his one true love. It was a shotgun. He also equipped himself with a pistol. The green man watched on in amusement as Connor went around with a troubled look on his face.
"Is there something wrong, Spooky? Can't seem to find the one?."
This brought Connor out of his daze.
"Huh? oh, uh, it's actually the opposite. I'm quite spoiled for choice."
"Huh?."
This caught him off guard.
Did he really say he was 'spoiled for choice'?
"wha..."
"Screw it, I'm gonna just try them all."
"..."
With some help from the dumbstruck Markus, Connor brought every weapon type over to the gun range.
He started off with the pistol.
With Markus providing guidance on his posture, Connor quickly readied himself, took a deep breath while aiming down the sights, and pulled the trigger.
*Bang*
The target was a piece of notebook paper held up by a paper clip.
Ignoring the ringing in his ears, he squinted, attempting to determine where his shot landed. After he failed to do so, he stopped caring and shot till the gun ran dry.
8 rounds and an empty magazine later, he switched to the shotgun. He wasn't really feeling the pistol.
He moved to an area with closer targets.
This time, when he fired, he nearly fell backwards, caught off guard by the strong kick. Luckily, Markus caught him, saving him from embarrassing himself.
Once more, he shot till he ran out of slugs. However, he didn't hold much interest in the weapon and dismissed it within his mind.
Marcus on the other hand...
When Connor looked over to the green man, he found a target riddled with holes and Markus who seemed lost in the excitement.
"Are you o-"
*BOGH-CHIC-CHIC*
Markus was lost within his own world.
Sighing, Connor went back to work, going down the list of guns, eventually, he was only left with the rifle and LMG.
He started with the rifle.
Going to the mid-range section, he rubbed his now sore shoulder, and mentally prepared himself. He hopped a few times, catching people's attention from his dumb looking act.
He finished his short ritual, took aim and pulled the trigger.
*BANG*
This one.
With only one shot, he determined it.
After some trial and error, he finally found the one!. One shot was all he needed. Although he was proficient in every weapon, with the rifle, he was the most comfortable. With it's mid to long range capabilities, and larger caliber, he felt that it was a perfect fit for him.
Now, none of that means that he had to stop shooting though. He kept at it, growing more comfortable with each bullet chambered. His ammunition ran out soon after. With that finished, he picked up the LMG and went towards a fresh target.
He may have found the one, but who in their right mind wouldn't shoot a big gun?
He layed prone, propping the gun up with it's bipod.
It was different than the previous guns. In order to comfortably shoot, his belly had to touch the ground.
He also reminded himself to expect a stronger kick.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the trigger.
*DU-DU-DU-DU-DU*
This...
He liked this one too...
Although his shoulder throbbed in pain, he didn't really mind it. The gun shots sounded heavier. It made him feel powerful.
Maybe he judged the gun harem a little too quickly...
The heavy shots of an LMG rang throughout the gun range.
*DU-DU-DU-DU-DU*