capthepoint | Open RP Thread: Ground Control to Major Tom

Open RP Thread: Ground Control to Major Tom

Who: RED and BLU Soldiers + audience? maybe
When: 5/19, 0600 hours
Where: The Vault

At six AM sharp that morning, however reluctantly, the former RED Engineer trudged across the hard-packed earth toward the Vault. His helmet straps jounced listlessly against his unshaven cheeks. Only half his collar was turned up. The other half sagged listlessly against his shoulder, along with the butt of his rocket launcher. He had to pause periodically to rub his eyes, with the air of somebody who dearly wished he hadn't skipped his morning coffee in his haste to get dressed.

But he was there, he figured, despite the fact that he could barely see the ground in front of him. And at this hour, that was what counted, right?

Letting out an impressive yawn, he rounded the last corner and glanced around for his teacher, all but certain the lunatic BLU had made it there before him.

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Sid's petulant groan was stifled by Dok's arrival. He tried to hold his breath as best he could as he took a quick sip of the coffee, and almost instantly regretted it. "Mornin' Dok," he mumbled, and glanced down into the thermos. Medic was European, it occurred to him, but he guessed it was worth a try. "Y'want some coffee?"

"Morning, Needles!" Soldier greeted. He felt bad about forgetting to bring some coffee for Medic, but then, he'd never seen the man drink any. He was one of them sissy European tea drinkers. "Glad you came. Hup To's gonna need the Medigun."

"Thanks f'r th'vote of confidence, pal," Sid muttered, glancing at the horizon, where the sun was only just beginning to clear the distant buttes. "We ready, or did you invite any more folks t'the party?"

"Nee..." Nevermind, he wasn't going to ask.
"Ja, I vill have a bit. Vhatever vakes me up because tea certainly vill not do it at zis hour," he said, taking the thermos from Sid and leaned his Kritzkrieg up against his leg so he had a free hand to unscrew the cap. The smell of it hit him hard enough to make a sour face, but he took a good swig of it anyway. If the caffeine didn't wake him the taste certainly did. "Eugh... strong."

"You're going to hurt yourself," Soldier told Sid matter-of-factly. It was simply part of the process. Especially for someone who wasn't as one with his rocket launcher as Soldier was. "Come over here and stand up straight," Soldier ordered. Once Sid had hopped to and affected standing at attention as closely as he knew how, Soldier inspected him. Yarn Ball would need new boots. The standard issue ones weren't going to last long if he was going to be doing this all the time.

"Now," Soldier told him, making a mental note to requisition him some Gunboats, "Level your weight out." He gave no further explanation, just waited for Sid to do as he was told.

Sid frowned at his feet for a moment, trying to do as he said. When his feet proved uncooperative he glanced over at him. "-- 'N how do I do that?"

Niklaus screwed the lid back on the thermos as the other two began their training session, leveling out his sour expression while Sid tried to do the same with his weight.
At least one of them was managing.
He placed the thermos down on the dusty ground as he hefted up his Kritzkrieg, the instrument squealing to life as he flicked on the power switch and prepared for a long day.

Soldier huffed.

"Figure out where the heaviest parts of your body are." Soldier told him. "Muscle is heavier than fat," he added as a sort of clue, inspecting Sid's physique critically. "Ain't that right, Sour Kraut? Oughta start trying to trade some off, Yarn Ball. Muscle is easier to feel the space and weight of. Gives you more control over the blast too."

"Once you know where your weight is, balance out your posture to it. When you stand up straight, you can feel where the imbalance is. Sort it out."

Edited 2013-05-22 05:52 (UTC)

The RED felt his face flushing at the remark about his weight. "'M not fat," he mumbled, and stood up a little taller, shifting his stance. "What's it s'posed t'feel like?"

"Even," Soldier said, watching to see if Sid was trying to alter his stance to compensate for the weight and lack thereof in different parts of his body. "You should feel like you could stop trying to stand and you wouldn't fall down."

"Try not to take all day gettin' there, Private."

Sid snorted. "I been standin' f'r most've my life, Sir. 'Th all due r'spect I ain't real sure how t'go about fixin' how I get there." He wiggled around in place a little more and looked at the older man uncertainly. "This look okay?"

"Maggot, you've been standing your whole life, but you ain't been doing it right! Not for rocketjumping! You try to blast off like you normally stand and you'll launch yourself into a wall!" Soldier snorted like a bull, then calmed himself back down.

"It doesn't matter how it looks, Snafu," he said impatiently. "What matters is how it feels. Does it feel like I told you?"

"I guess." He would have felt better if it felt appreciably different than his normal posture. Aside from standing up straight, he didn't feel all that much different. Maybe the different feeling came after your shoes were on fire, he thought.

"So now what happens?"

You blow your legs off, he thought to himself as he observed the lesson in progress, his own posture relaxed until further notice. He never understood this 'rocket jumping' business; there was nothing more frustrating than chasing down sky-high Soldier flying head first into combat with self inflicted wounds.

"Learn that stance. Commit it to your memory. Every time you rocketjump, you are going to start from that position." It was the stance, or for Sid's sake he hoped it was, of maximum balance. With his weight evenly distributed, Sid should be able to launch himself exactly upward.

Provided he could land the rocket right.

"Get your launcher," he instructed, collecting his own. Sid, it seemed, preferred the standard rocket launcher which was fine to Soldier. Four rockets loaded, as opposed to his own launcher's three, would be more convenient.

"Go ahead and put the beam on him, Volkswagon," he said to Medic. An overheal would be a decent insurance against Sid dying.

Sid swallowed hard, realizing what he was in store for. The muzziness of the early hour was shedding rapidly in the wake of his approaching nerves. As the healing beam surrounded him, he reached down and collected his rocket launcher, carefully, so as not to disturb his nonexistent equilibrium.

His knees shook a little on the upswing. He devoutly hoped Soldier wasn't an observant type.

He wondered if this fount of nicknames was at all endless as he aimed and pushed the lever forward, releasing the stream of revitalizing energy onto his team mate. A few steps back were also taken, just to avoid the blast radius.
"Ready vhen you are, gentlemen."

"All right, pay attention, Private,"Soldier said, hefting his own rocket launcher on to his shoulder. "This part's important. It will be on the test." Soldier got into his own balanced stance and pointed at his feet.

"You want to fire your rocket right between your feet and then jump. Let the blast push you faster. But when it explodes, you want to close the gap between your feet some. That way, the explosion will shoot you up higher because it's pushing against more of the bottom of your shoes. Watch how I do it."

Soldier shifted his feet about four inches apart and then fired his rocket launcher directly between them. The blast shot him straight up about forty feet in the air, and then he promptly fell back to earth with an unpleasant cracking sound in his ankles. Soldier didn't seem at all concerned by it though, and went on with his lecture.

"Don't lean. Just stay in that position and move your feet to make the most of your blast." Soldier turned to Medic then. "If he does this right, he should launch himself out of your range. Try to catch him with the beam as he's coming back down." Soldier had a feeling those instructions would not be needed on this try, though.

Sid took a deep breath. He tried his best to attend to what Soldier was saying, but the thought of the incoming explosion had the soles of his feet tingling already. When the other man promptly blasted off, the light and the sudden sound had him flinching reflexively back. He only realized as the other man was descending that he hadn't been looking at his feet at all.

Chest tight with dread and anticipation, he tried to shift his feet apart, pointing the muzzle of the launcher down clumsily and thumbing the safety off. "Y'want me t'-- try 'n do it, or?" he asked the ground lamely.

Soldier glared.

"No, I want you to stand there and look... sparkly," he grunted, giving the healing beam a snort. He learned without a Medic holding his hand. Or someone to explain it to him.

"Yes, maggot, I want you to try! T MINUS FIVE SECONDS, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE! LIFTOFF, CRAFT FAIR!"

The former Engineer made a small, terrified choking noise in the back of his throat and fired his launcher to hide it. The rocket detonated at his feet, the blast propelling him a few feet in the air and turning the lower half of his uniform into a charred and smoking mess. He hit the ground a few moments later, clumsily, and promptly stumbled backwards into the Medic.

"Shit --" He grit his teeth against further curses, lurching forward again and promptly stumbling to his knees. He hadn't even tried to jump. At least his legs were intact, he thought. The fact that they felt like they were on fire was probably a good sign.

He coughed out a sob and looked up at his teacher, chagrined and a little afraid.

Niklaus knew the drill for this situation all too well, instinctively shifting the beam onto the BLU to patch him up while he gave Sid a few last pointers.

He flinched as the RED Soldier's first attempt of the morning turned out to be a sloppy one as it sent him flailing upward, keeping his gun trained on him, and braced himself when he came back to earth and into him. He would only grunt as he caught him with his shoulder, the beam bending around as he turned.

Yup. This was going to be a long morning, he thought as he sighed and watched poor Sid trip clumsily.

Soldier regarded the crumpled and charred excuse for a fellow Soldier at his feet.

"Your legs are still on. And you got a couple feet in the air." Having never tried to teach rocketjumping, Soldier had no frame of reference, but he figured that Sid hadn't taken his bottom half off this time was an improvement. He held out a hand to help Sid back on his feet.

"Come on, walk it off and try again, Sidney Beans."

The unfamiliar sound of grudging praise relaxed a little of the tension in the Soldier's shoulders. He accepted the hand up, blinking a little in surprise at the sound of his name. "Sorry," he mumbled, getting to his feet again. At least the Medigun had soothed away most of the pain from his feet.

He wanted badly to remark on the way Soldier had said his name, and stared at him curiously for a moment more before concluding that maybe it was a bad idea to put the guy on the spot like that. "S'ere somethin' else I oughta be doin'? T'like -- I dunno, get higher up or somethin'?"

Does it always hurt like that? he wanted to ask, but he suspected maybe Soldier would like that question less.

"You could try jumping," Soldier told him. "Try to think of it as one action. You shoot and jump in the same move."

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Open RP Thread: Ground Control to Major Tom

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