Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Initiate sauntered down the hallway, placing one foot directly in front of the other in so to make sure that her hips swung visibly back and forth. As she entered the room and her figure came more into the light, it was easier to tell what she really looked like. Tanya was a relatively tall woman, and her figure fairly lithe. Gauging just how thin she really was though was a bit tough, as that she covered herself with a fair bit of leather and latex. It wasn’t particularly protective, but she liked the way it felt against her skin. Draped around her shoulders was a thin cloth, that again wasn’t very protective, but it helped to obscure her figure and what weapons she had on her, especially at a distance. And she was armed, even here on the Brotherhood base. She kept her P90 on a strap around one shoulder, hanging at her waist, with her Needler pistol in a holster at her thigh. Obscured around her wrists were her razors claws, detracted for that they’re counterproductive to everyday activities. However, her grenades were absent, as it can be a tad dangerous to just leave those on you all the time. Besides, she didn’t imagine that she’d need them in a training exercise.

As she approached the man she let a smile cut across her mouth, better showing off her full lips, and betraying the smile lines that flanked them. For a girl in the wastes, she was actually rather attractive, with high cheekbones and a definite facial structure. Tanya’s eyes were beautiful, a deep green with streaks of white making them stand out, though slightly obscured by silky black hair, scattered carelessly over her forehead, with most of it pulled back behind her head. Something odd stood out about her, as though she’d managed to wash her hair somehow, as though she’d managed to clean her skin. Overall, she seemed very well kept, and even had two piercings on her left brow, as well as a few in each ear.

The man introduced himself, a stand-in for the normal instructor, but the one who’d be doing her training regardless. He flipped through some papers and asked her to introduce herself. In response she pursed her lips slightly and nodded happily, starting out, “Initiate Tatyana Close reports, sir!” Her voice was soft, and somewhat alluring. “I am a fresh Initiate to the Brotherhood, having come here recently from the Reaver Movement. My cousin is Glenda Close, one of the Elders. Though this is not to say that she’s elderly, rather just that she’s of a high position.” She caught that she was starting to ramble, and fixed herself, straightening her stature as well as her speech. “I have a penchant for technology, science, and experience with energy weapons. In addition I am good at mechanical repairs, though I have more skill in repairing electronic devices.” By the sound of her voice, one would at first think that she was trying to seduce, but upon closer listening to her tone, it was just the way she talked. “Is there anything of import that you would have me say of myself, sir?”

Her smile drew short as the Senior Squire gave his response and an eyebrow rose disapprovingly high. Another purist; so self-righteous to their gilded asses. You too joined the Brotherhood from another group. However, after he led her into the next room with the dummies, his tone was more merely instructional, rather than as condescending as beforehand. He told her to strike the dummy, and that is what she was to do.

Taking a few steps forward, Tanya removed her P90 from her shoulder and placed it on the ground as not to obstruct her, kneeling down as she did so, not to scuff up the weapon any. As she rose from the ground she took a few steps forward once more at a swifter pace, gaining on the straw filled burlap sack. Nearing it the Initiate took an odd step forward and pivoted on the toes of her foot, bringing her other leg backwards and around in a graceful spin, striking the dummy across the face lightly with her foot, not quite close enough to hit it with her heel as intended.

Both feet back on the ground she brought her hands before her in fists, she punched the dummy in the stomach with one hand, and then the other. This normally isn’t a very effective technique, but then she activated some sort of switch, springing the razors on the back of her wrists forward into the dummy’s gut. She twisted and pulled out, straw coming with the blades. As to make sure that the burlap sack was truly deceased, she took a step back and with her left arm swung across its neck, as though to try and help it breath a little, were it to be alive.

Making an about-face, Tanya walked back to the instructor, pulling her blades back into place, sheathed along her forearms. She stopped by her gun though, taking a moment to grudgingly pull back the second one before picking up the firearm and replacing the strap to her shoulder. The Initiate looked at him quietly, waiting for his judgment.

Tanya nodded to the instructor, a grin inching its way across her lips. She approached the table just the same as she’d approached the room itself and eyed the table with a discerning look. Many of the weapons were crude, many battered. Certainly, none of them were the sophisticated and beautiful weapons that she was accustomed to using. With a slight groan she grabbed a pistol, one she didn’t even recognize, and approached the firing line, snapping the magazine into the grip. She spread her legs apart, feet under her shoulders, one facing the target, her body perpendicular to it. Raising up the pistol she closed one eye and took aim, firing a single shot upon it.

The round missed, so she adjusted and fired again, missing once more. Adjusting a third time, she fired and struck the dummy in the neck, firing a fourth time, hitting the dummy in the neck again. Satisfied that she’d gotten the idea of the weapon, she pressed the release catch and let the magazine slide out into her other hand, then returned to the table and placed it down. She pulled back the slide, ejecting one last round onto the table, and then finally placed the pistol down as well.

The next weapon she selected was one she recognized, an MP5. She scooped it up and jammed the magazine into place with a snap, a grin on her face. Weapon selected, she approached the firing line and pulled back the slide, letting it snap into place and a round into the chamber. She readied the submachine gun much the same as she did the pistol, and then fired on the middle dummy, the first round crashing into its chest, and then a second round, hitting it in the chest as well.

She looked back over her shoulder at the Squire, gave a little smirk, and then switched it over to ‘F’. Turning back to the targets, she let loose a spray across the entire spread, draining the gun dry. Each target had only been hit about once or twice, but she’d managed to hit all of them with one spread. She hit the release catch and reached down to her side to grab another magazine but then and only then realized that she’d only grabbed one from the table. She laughed and took a relaxed stance, for if that’d been a real situation, she could possibly be dead now.

Bending over as to shove her rear into the air and show off her leather clad legs while she picked up the dispensed magazine from the ground. She straightened herself up and once more did an about-face and approached the instructor once more and stopped a good five paces from him. She smiled and inquired, “Was there anything further that you would like me to do with a firearm, or was that sufficient?”

A slight grin etched its way across the Reaver’s face when he pointed out the grenades and instructed her that she was to select one and demolish the dummies with it. She was about to select one of the grenades when she stopped looking at them, instead looking up and around at the room about her. Tantyana turned to face her instructor and inquired, “Senior Squire, do you have a dummy grenade to simulate a grenade blast, or otherwise an area to shield us from the blast? I have no interest in putting either of us in harms way if possible for just a training exercise.” She gave off a sincere smile, though whether it was or not was entirely up to his judgment.