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Old 06-05-2006, 02:02 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: ON, Canada

C3 Contest: Paint-ocalypse Now

The sun had climbed high into the spring sky, beating down on two figures concealed in a copse of trees. One figure belly-crawled from his concealment up to a large granite bolulder, flanking the small path five yards ahead and on the opposite side. The figures? Two players in a three hour long Capture the Flag game; played to 'Realistic' rules. The markers used were set to different velocities. Pumps at 300fps, mechanical semi-automatics to 260fps and electroics or full automatics to 240fps.
The figure behind the rock, let's call him 'Matt', Matt had an e-gripped A-5, firepower to complement his companion's lack thereof. His team mate, Me; I was using a crossman stocked PGP 2k1 and had a pistol strapped to my leg, the pistol not yet used, but sitting ready.
Further to the front several firefights could be heard, the pops of semi-automatic marker fire alongside the odd *PING* of some unknown pump on the opposing side, then the stattico bursts of full automatic fire.

The area infront of us suddenly went silent

This was either really good or really bad. Then the call came through to Matt's radio.

nine hostiles inbound to your position, re-enforcments behind them, don't know how many. hold
your position until we can re-enforce you.


That was the last thing that we wanted to hear. Two agains nine, plus whatever might be
on the way. there was no time to fall back and take new positions, no time to explain a plan, only to check that your marker was fully loaded and get deeper in cover. from the field 200 yards ahead we saw the first of the oposition come into sight, but not into range. They were closing rapidly, peppering bushes with automatic fire and running past. As they closed to 125 yards or so i fired the frist shot, a miss, but amid thier fire no one noticed the shot. i waited for them to come to the next bush, waited for the automatic fire to start, took aim and let a single shot fly, catching one of them on the marker and stopping the eight remaining players for several seconds. More silence, as they warily proceded foreward, peppering nearby bushes with even more fire, their mistake. They were at 50 yards, i did not dare risk another shot. Instead they started running foreward again, probably thinking they had shaken their persuer.
From where i lay i could see Matt's camoflauged barrel tip sticking out from between another large granite formation and a thick bush, angled back down the path instead of towards the threat.the eight were at 30 yeards and closing at a trot. with ten more comming 100 yeards behind them. This is when you get that feeling in your stomach, just knowing you're going to feel that sharp sting on a part of your body you didn't know was exposed, worse you know you can't move or you will be spotted for sure. as they passed my location one of them paused for a horrifically long second, looking directly at where i lay before continuing on.
They never saw what hit them; one second all was peaceful, the next a hellstorm of automatic fire from matt's A-5 had taken everyone down. Thier leader called out 'Damnit!' before laughing and trotting off to their respawn point. as the next unit closed with us 'Captain' Kirk Donald and Brad linked up with us, kirk holding some variety of high end electronic marker, David carrying a borrowed Brass Eagle semi-automatic and shaking with excitement. all this had happened in under 30 seconds. The rest of the opposition was moving very slowly and was at the edge of Matt's range.
We took up position again, Matt and Kirk in the center, myself in a position off to the left, Brad in tow. all lined up around a curving split-rail fence line.
As the other team moved up to the 70 yard mark I opened fire *ka-chak* *POP*, *ka-chak* *POP*, ten rounds as quick as I could. A hit blossomed on a far off chest, and another on the same guy's leg. Incoming fire poured into my position, I hit the dirt fast enough, Brad's goggles and chest turned blue and green instantly. He turned around and started to turn and take his goggles off, marker in the air. I later tore a strip up one side of him and down the other, most of which consisted of "Are you stupid? did your mother have and children who lived?". At the time though, i told him to keep his bloody goggles on and get the hell out of there.
Seconds later Matt and Kirk opened up, hammering the opposing team's position. Stalemate. as soon as one side stopped firing the other opened up. No one on either side made a move to flank, forty yards from my position i could see a clear shot on two of the ten, but thought to do better. I laid down the PGP and took out my pistol and crawled up behind them, surrendered two and then shot a third, amid the automatic fire of four others it was not noticed, i shot two more, and mad a move to shoot one of the guys with an E-spyder set to automatic fire. *Brrrrappppp*. The pistol coughed and died, the seal for the cartidge had either leaked or the cartidge was a dud. Either way the paint barely came out of the barrel with enough force to break on target, and it alerted the three remaining players to my presence. one turned around and *pop* there was a brief stinging sensation in the center of my chest, i looked down and there it was, a bright yellow mark, i had been eliminated. but before me ten markers from my team opened fire, raining down paint on my position. it was a 15 minute game over for me, but ultimately, The other team lost the initiative after that, with 50% of their force gone, kirk and the rest of the crew pushed foreward and steamrolled their way into the opposition's base, an empty barn, taking the flag and hanging it within five minutes of my elimination.

There is no 'I' in 'Team', but there's always 'ME'
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