Paintball

[Walking_Target]

It’s a cloudy, sullen day, the temperature reaching into the upper 70’s. You’re lying down in the dirt on the edge of a copse of trees; off in the distance you hear the characteristic ‘Thwack, Thwack, Thwack’ of Tippmanns exchanging semi-and-fully automatic fire, somewhere in front of you emanates the harsh bark of a Spyder throwing a three round burst, destined to never hit a thing.
A youth pops out from behind his rocky cover, aiming another three round burst from his MR3 at a tree to your far right; so intent on the obvious place someone might hide that he never even scans the thin screen of grass separating you. He is advancing forward. Obviously hyped up on adrenaline and looking to score his first elimination of the day. Your position couldn’t be better though, his shouldered marker effectively blocks your from his view and gives you that much more to shoot at; he’s a bare twenty yards away.
Your marker comes to your shoulder smoothly, automatically tracking him as he steps forward. He hesitates when he realizes there’s no one behind that tree, that is his deadly mistake. His pause is punctuated by a single ‘Chut’ and a bright pink spot blooms on his ribs, He quickly looks to the left and right, not immediately seeing anybody he drops his arm to his side and scrubs it back and forth, trying to eliminate the mark.
The little bugger just wiped a perfect shot!
In response you shoot twice more, ‘Chut, Chut’ and spots appear on the side of his mask and his pack; he still doesn’t see you, but admits defeat and walks off.
Surprising as it is, your Automag is quiet enough that its noise is almost lost amidst the chatter of Tippmans and Spyders.
Within a minute, the kid has come back, this time with three friends. They spray the brush all around you, some paint even whizzes right by you, passing just inches over your head; one toting an A-5 shrugs and mutters something to his companion; the two of them turn to leave; you slowly exhale a breath you don’t realize you had been holding and sight on the two still looking in your direction, adjusting your aim for the forty yards of distance and let loose a burst at each of them. Pink spots bloom on one’s chest and on the other’s chest and mask; the two who were walking away turn around and drop, opening up on a spot barely two feet to your left. You can’t believe your luck, but won’t count on getting a second chance, you force yourself to breath in and out; then shoot at each of them, a single shot gets one of the A-5 wielders, the other shots miss; his friend alters his aim at takes shots directly at you. You roll to your left, where they thought you were originally, an shoot without thinking, managing to score another hit.
No time to celebrate though, within a minute they will have another bunch knocking on your doorstep. You’re job is done though, you hear the air horn. The game is over, the flag was hung and you never even saw it, none the less though, you held up a third of their team, by yourself.

Time to get more paint, CO2 and get ready for the next game, the next onslaught.

[Railgun]

/me wipes a forming tear away....

Poetry man, shear poetry... So... so... zen....

[Amoryl]

Originally Posted by Railgun

/me wipes a forming tear away....

Poetry man, shear poetry... So... so... zen....

NO WIPING!

wait, so the turd wipes a perfectly good hit. then you hit him a couple more times, so he leaves then comes right back with more people? i woulda dragged him in front of a ref for a chat after that.

[MattV]

Good story. I love it when people just spray paint at you, never able to hit you, and you get them with one or two.

I had that happen (the wiping part) to me the other day. Some guy I worked with had just picked up a Tippman 98 and came out and played with us. He was pretty new, and when he saw my friend and started shooting at him, he didn't look anywhere else. I walked around behind him, and got him from about 30 feet away in the back. I had a perfectly clear view of him, and the bastard turns around and tries to wipe it off on the tree. I think he thought the other guy got him, because when I started yelling at him to get off, he looked surprised and left.

[Bones]

Originally Posted by Walking_Target

Somewhere in front of you emanates the harsh bark of a Spyder throwing a three round burst, destined to never hit a thing.

That is some pretty good writing you have there, and a nice play.

[Walking_Target]

to specify, it was a capture the flag game with unlimited resurections.

and thanks for the comments

[two_four_878]

Nicely written. Makes me want to go play even more. I haven't been out in way too long.