Commander Alice Shepard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
twiceadays) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-05-29 02:02 pm
twiceadays) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-05-29 02:02 pm
[open]
Date & Time: May 29th, early afternoon
Location: The Training Hall
Characters: Shepard and yooouuuuuuuuu
Summary: Space magic aka Shepard's just going to fling things around with her biotics and then shoot them. It's v. productive.
Warnings: Possible bad language and eventual mentions of alcohol?
There were few things as satisfying to Shepard as the feel of the assault rifle in her hands. Or any weapon, really. She was a soldier at heart, a fighter. Even before she had died and was rebuilt to stop the Collectors, she'd always loved the fight, loved shooting, loved the intense training it took to be good at what she did. Right now, though, it was more of a way to get her mind to focus.
A blue haze engulfed her hand as she motioned for another target, whipping it into the air. She pressed the butt of her gun against her shoulder, aimed, fired. The target shattered.
The past few years had been good at throwing the commander through the ringer, dropping her in one situation after another. On the outside, it wouldn't seem like this place and the purpose she was dragged here would be any different, but everything about these people got under her skin. Her world was was being ravaged, the galaxy threatened, and here she was playing at rebellion for people she didn't even know. She had no team, and to be honest, it was getting harder for her to want to trust people to have her back again.
Another target shot through the air.
Aim, fire.
Too bad there weren't any Blue Suns to play target practice with.
[ooc: totally willing to go with action tags, as well!]
Location: The Training Hall
Characters: Shepard and yooouuuuuuuuu
Summary: Space magic aka Shepard's just going to fling things around with her biotics and then shoot them. It's v. productive.
Warnings: Possible bad language and eventual mentions of alcohol?
There were few things as satisfying to Shepard as the feel of the assault rifle in her hands. Or any weapon, really. She was a soldier at heart, a fighter. Even before she had died and was rebuilt to stop the Collectors, she'd always loved the fight, loved shooting, loved the intense training it took to be good at what she did. Right now, though, it was more of a way to get her mind to focus.
A blue haze engulfed her hand as she motioned for another target, whipping it into the air. She pressed the butt of her gun against her shoulder, aimed, fired. The target shattered.
The past few years had been good at throwing the commander through the ringer, dropping her in one situation after another. On the outside, it wouldn't seem like this place and the purpose she was dragged here would be any different, but everything about these people got under her skin. Her world was was being ravaged, the galaxy threatened, and here she was playing at rebellion for people she didn't even know. She had no team, and to be honest, it was getting harder for her to want to trust people to have her back again.
Another target shot through the air.
Aim, fire.
Too bad there weren't any Blue Suns to play target practice with.
[ooc: totally willing to go with action tags, as well!]
sorry for the late tag 8c
She pauses and then holds out her hand. "I'm Shepard."