Asanj Nouravii's Story

The door chime caught Issac's ear easily enough. With a lamenting sigh he pushed himself off the ground and began dusting himself off when a broad smile split his face. Happy to see an old acquaintance ,and fairly amused knowing what he did about her to see her in the unassuming sundress, he went over to her to chat.

" Elanna, speak of the devil. " He quibbled, " Come to put more holes in my targets?" He accused in a clearly sarcastic tone.
" Glad to hear you got her in working order, I've learned a good bit from the bits you've loaned me. " He decided to talk around the subject not wanting to out her right away, some folk had miss givings about her kind.

"You gonna pick up that Gp 100 M this go around or just tease me some more?" he asked half serious half joking.

Asanj's words hadn't escaped him. Taken weapons out of civilian use, so she'd likely be law or military... Tho the jargon suggested an officer of the law, certainly not Terra tho.

" Oh where are my manners. Elanna, this is Miss Photu." He explained with a gesture, " and Miss Asanj."

Photu looked at Asanj thankfully not twitching as much as she stuttered and stalled, "Not huuunted. I ammm hunting aaagain for stttolen parts to mmmy thiiings. The houuunds are jjjust a risk there fffor those gggoing whens thhhey donnn't belooong in. I neeeed ppparts the chiiildren stttole after the hounddds were dddone."

A mindful imitator Photu continued to clean pistol parts. She presented the

As Photu examined Issac's rifle with its tightly machined parts and the cyborg arm using it one side of the woman's eyes dilated from inattention. It returned to normal as she corrected the mistake she really liked the meat suit to metal interface! It wasn't something she was old enough to learn yet but that the time would come. Time made a beauty of all things.

The sudden smile appeared talking to Issac forgetting herself again, "Vvviolence and peace are bbboth beautiful giiiven enooough time anddd attentttion. I think I wouuuld like ttto knooow how to ussse my meat to fight with."

Photu balled the woman's fists and jabbed them haphazardly from the shoulder. She didn't quite understand the curves in time to move it yet to make war. At least not without falling over. Curve-born bipeds were so often unstable.

The smile pointed at Elanna head pointed slightly down, "Hello. Elanna. You loook asseeembled liiike good riiiifles."

"I did." Elanna replied cheerfully as she placed the aluminum case on the counter.

She grasped the latches, placing her thumbs on small indentations until the red LED light flashed green. There was a click and the case sprang open, seated inside a protective foam mold was the ivory gripped, gold engraved Type 23 Aschen disruptor pistol, the orange guilloche and paisley gold clad slide of the weapon glinted in the light, along with enameled black characters that spelled "Winona" in Anquietas.

Elanna carefully retrieved the weapon, and held it up, smiling at Isaac before she pulled a small lever, and the back slide of the weapon slid back, exposing the fusion chamber, a small recieved jutting upwards to accept an inserted fusion cell.

"Turns out the power inverter, and the Thermopole energizer were bad, but I also had the focusing coils replaced along with the helium dispersing unit." She said, turning the weapon over in her hand.

Inserting a fusion cell, the core retainer slid back into the weapon, the housing closed with a clack and the weapon emitted a high pitched whine, power indicators and holographic sights coming online.

"I'm excited, you want to take her for a spin?"

Asanj had to take a moment to take a swing of the canteen of water she had packed by her hip. Despite it usually being drier than dirt out here most days it was unfathomably humid today. So much so that the short heavy woman was sweating buckets today even with the very ridiculous shade on her head. “Nice to make your acquaintance.” She hub up from where she stood.

She paid her respects to the stranger, though if she was on the job perhaps she would have realized who she was talking to. Still her full attention was on her new shooting buddy Photu. Her story interested her. Asanj was genuinely curious what sort of things that Photu felt were important enough to risk her own life to get back or more importantly be prepared to kill for. That was the sort of drive the put a lot of events in motion.

She would have perhaps spoke more on the matter but it would seem fate had different plans for Asanj’s afternoon. The nature of her work meant she was always on call. Far more than any time in her life. Something beeped in the very light jacket she had brought with her to the range, actually near the purse she on occasion carried with her it really did made things more helpful. The woman in the sleek futuristic yoga pants (honestly, how futuristic could you make yoga pants?) had to stop what she was doing and make her way over to the jacket.

Her phone was a scramble of numbers and letters, most letters were not native to this world but who of course could realize that with her so close to the personal device. She released a rather irritated breath. She was having such a nice time but it couldn’t last she was afraid. Beginning to get her things together as she first approached the cowgirl. “I’m afraid we have to cut this lesson short.” She expressed. She slightly marveled at the sight of the reassembled firearm. “That looks fantastic.” She expressed with a gleaming smile spreading across her face.

Grinning, Issac answered" ofcorse! " He moved over to peer at the weapon closer.
" I figured as much, I was gonna guess it had to do with the energy conversion method, but didn't wanna risk damagaing the weapon further. " He admitted.


Hearing the pager go off Issac turned.
" Ah. Well stay safe alright?" He said to Asanj as she left.

( short post because reasons)

He was extremely nervous, sweat beginning to bead on his forehand, and his hands clenching into fists without his realizing. This was a big step, almost the last big step, but he was pretty much clueless and assumed he'd be laughed out of One Target within minutes. "God, maybe this whole damn thing is a mistake.", he though to himself as he raised his hand towards the door. So much hesitation.

This is what he wanted though, right? Right..?

Gerrit swallowed hard and pushed his way into the store. He was a tall, bulky man clad in red and black. The pants were quite obviously work-pants, probably from a construction crew, and the white-tank top he had on was grungy and sweat-stained. The only thing on him that looked new was the leather jacket. It was obviously bought to match the pants, but he felt it probably just looked stupid as hell to everyone else. Never before in his life had he given a damn about what he looked like, but at this moment he could feel every grain of sand stuck to his face, every hair out of place.

He was even regretting his tattoos, and wished he had longer sleeves.

Worst of all was gun though, slung on his hip by a slab of leather that could barely qualify as a holster. It was an old, old Invictus Pistol. A small 9mm affair, easily a decade old and it showed. The thing was dented, and nicked, you could even spot some of the rust patches while it was holstered. It barely functioned, it was held together by seemingly nothing, and often jammed, but it was the only gun Gerrit owned. The only gun he ever had. He didn't know much about maintenance, but tried his best.

Hell, he'd found the damn thing in a pile of rubble from a building he helped tear down, and it was old and junk then, but it woke something up in him.

He felt so inadequate as he looked around the shop, though. Row after row of pristine, state of the art hardware. Hell this Issac fellow probably polished every damn gun every damn day, and knew how to use them too. It killed Gerrit to have to admit, at his age of 32, he'd only ever held, let alone fired a gun a handful of times. He walked up to the front counter, painful aware of everyone in the room and coughed a little. It was a nervous kind of cough.

"Excuse me,", his voice was low and gruff, not fitting his nervous appearance at all, and he spoke with a distinctly Terran accent. "I was uh, wonderin' if I could find some ammo for my gun here.." He took it out shakily, placing the heap of scrap metal on the counter. "D-don't worry or anythin', ain't loaded."

The sound of an arrow slamming home into a target rang across the range. It was quickly followed by grumblings, then again the snap of a bowstring rang out, a slightly louder thud was heard, this time followed by muttered curses in a string of words untranslatable because if they were translated then well, the person translating would get executed for certain words used in the translation.

Returning to the workbench the black haired woman laid the seemingly gold plated bow onto the bench surface and got to work on one of the springs. the bow looked as if it were selfbuilt, which it kind of was as Asaca had dound the weapon and kept modifiying it to make it better.

At this point with the constant modifying the draw weight of the weapon only someone with unnatural strength, or being a bodybuild could use, adn yet she drew the bowstring back perfect, launched a shot 500 meters, and nailed her target, which was to be hoped actually thankfully so.

Her ears perked up however at the sudden chime of the door bell going off. She then remembered where she was. She finished tighting a spring then set the tool aside and picked up her bow. Hitting the release slide the thing sprang tight as she had hoped. Now she just needed more arrows!

So she went into the main shop area wondering why the ringing bell driving her sensitive hearing over the edge with its endless dinging. Asaca's red eyes took in the show, thankfully they had archery stuff there, she headed for the archery gear, mostly for more arrows to shoot at really distant targets.

She halted however at sight of who was in the show, something felt off. Yet the owner seemed calm and goodnaturedm, hell he left her work on her bow there at no cost, the guy seemed downright facinated about the technology she used, mostly just spare parts, infact the last four CO3 canisters she had used she had scavanged off a smashed Wing City Public Bus! She just needed one more, which the shop had, and now she was testing the bow out with the CO3 keeping the springs coiled with their sheer pressure.

She felt nervous, not because of the weapons, but because of what she was, Pretahumans rarely lasted in most cities, the fact she was accepted on that world after finding a transport from Astria to the planet known as Terra, she seemed better off. For most part at least.

She stepped up to the counter, holding her bow in her left hand she tapped on the counter with her right knuckles holding out four fingers twice, meaning she was asking for eight more shots. 44" arrows werent cheap, yet this place had seemingly a countless number of the same arrows she required