The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago [Collab] Fresh Meat meet Old Salt

Ana watched him as he demonstrated some simple things with the PDW, still confused. After he put it down, she asked the shopkeep if she might hold it, and he simply nodded with a dismissive wave. It was apparent that Russell knew his stuff, and shopkeep had other business to attend to. She lifted it a bit, finding it surprisingly heavy in her hands, before turning to look at Russell. She held the weapon against her abdomen, barrel pointing to the ground, but she otherwise didn't do much.

"My father said to never aim at anything you didn't mean to shoot, but I really have no idea what I'm doing. It's also heavier than I had expected, for something so small. Sure, it'll fit in my cockpit, but there's more room in there than people expect. After all, I did take it from two seats down to one." She looked down at the weapon, and closed an eye to look through the sight, without putting her face to the weapon. She looked back up at him. "So, this just allows me to focus on what's inside the box for what I'm shooting, rather having to zoom in on the target?"
 
"You have to take more into account than just the weapon's weight. You have to keep spare magazines in mind, the general weight of the ammunition, any straps that might be with the weapon, et cetera. As for not knowing much in the ways of usi g firearms, the Bunker has a firing range. A bit of practice with an instructor to make sure you don't shoot yourself on accident can fix that right up." The grunt leans back slightly, and shakes his head. "The sight lets you line up your shot. You can't just point a gun in someone's general direction and expect a cone of bullets to fly from the barrel of the gun." He chuckles a bit, the irony of the statement no quite lost on him. "And one last thing. The advice your father gave you is good enough for a child, but he omitted one little snippet of information: never point a gun at someone you don't intend to kill."
 
With a nod, she flagged down the owner of the stall, purchasing the weapon with money from her personal accounts. If there was a problem later, she would talk to someone. She'd have to find who to talk to, but that was a problem for later on. Along with her purchase, she added on a shoulder strap and a single box of ammunition to go with it. With new purchases filling her hands, she turned back to look at Russell.

"This should be good for now, right? I mean, I can get extra bullets and magazines from the Coalition, I hope." She smiled, balancing the box of bullets atop her head while she put the strap onto the gun itself. Once complete, she clung the strap over her shoulder and took the box back into a hand.
 
Russell shrugs. "Perhaps, though it's always safer to stock up on your own stash." He takes a few steps forward, and purchases a few belts of .50 BMG. "If that's all, I think I'll be going now. I enjoyed our talk." With that, the man begins to walk away from the stand.
 
The Pilot smiled and simply waved at his back as he left. She sat herself down, loaded up one of the two magazines that had come with her weapon, and then tossed the empty box, re-shouldering the gun. He'd be good to work with, for certain, but she had to head home. That crane wasn't going to take itself off the bird.
 
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