<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/QFEDpSq.png)</div><strong>Location:</strong>XCOM Barrack main hall<br/><strong>Action:</strong>Talking<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jin Moon, Jena Hargreave, open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Despite not appreciating being called a sniper, it was in the end true. It just felt static, sharpshooter was a far more accurate description. Yet, she decided not to comment it, even if she knew it would annoy the heck out of her if it became a thing. She put aside the first fully loaded magazine before starting on another one, pushing the bullets down with her left thumb, sliding in new ones quickly with her right hand. While she remained paying attention to the conversation (And trying to decipher the Taxas woman's lines) she was still prioritizing finishing up her equipment.<br/><br/><strong>"I've never been to Australia sweetheart"</strong>She said smiling casually. Hating to fly was one of her main reasons, but besides that, she didn't feel any desire to go to the country. Fine, she probably had some family there and all, but she wouldn't know them, and they probably believed she was dead, and it was most likely for the best.<br/><br/>She returned her attention to the Asian girl. The lesson seemed to have sunk in at least.<strong>"Maybe I'll get nice when I see that you can take more than three steps before dying. Being attached to people isn't usually the best thing ya'know, be prepared to make choices. It's not fun, but it's just as important, if not more important, than pulling the trigger. Even if I don't have any yellow stripes on my arm, it doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about"</strong>She put the second magazine into a black shoulder-bag with an extra strap to go around the leg to prevent it from jumping around, before unhooking the four or five dog tags hanging from the hilt of the machete. She had lost the scabbard a few years back, but she still had a simple blade-protector that prevented her leg from getting cut off while running. A thin leather-strip going over the blade, covering over it. She put it on, before hooking the machete to the bag, before pulling out the handgun from the bag, dropping out the magazine from it to check. It was still full, she knew that, but it was always nice to double-check. She had a silencer for the gun, but she doubted there would be any reason to. If anything, it would probably be an advantage to make some noise.<br/><br/>After that, she pulled out a more mysterious package. A small, brown pack, nothing but an unreadable stamp and some handwriting on it. She opened it, and emptied the content onto her bed. 25 massive rounds. With each round being over 15 centimeter long, and almost 15 millimeter wide. After having emptied the box, she started putting them back into the box, putting each bullet opposite of the previous, making sure that half of the five rounds on each layer was facing down, the other half up. With the magazine mechanism being broken, it had forced her to experiment a little, and it had turned out successful. She simply put the rounds between her fingers, flipping each round around her fingers whenever loading, making them turn around and get one point closer to the chamber. With a two-foot bipod and an extra support for the stock, the rifle held itself up while she loaded.<br/><br/>She took a pause however when Jena introduced herself.<strong>"Dawn, Dawn Farron"</strong>She replied, giving the lady a firm shake, before quickly finishing up the task of loading up the box again. The reason the box wasn't more extravagant than it was quite easily boiled down to the fact that they weren't standard production rounds, the only place she had actually managed to get her hands on them were through "totally legal importing" to quote the seller, and through importing them from Russia, whom used them for several Anti-Aircraft guns.<strong>"There's a bar bench over there, don't know how well equipped it is. I think I saw a firing range... Somewhere, I dunno. I'd wait with spending all my ammunition till we have a proper source of more though, apparently money is short"</strong>