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Post by Hazel 'Hobbs' Yeung on Aug 9, 2012 17:02:48 GMT -5
In her mind's eye, Hobbs was back out there. In the desert scrubland of Helmand. There were five of them in the Jackal; the driver, herself, and three others. They were all her men; First Lieutenants. And in her mind's eye there was a small dark dot in the sky. A dot that rose into the glare of the sun and plopped into their four-by-four before delivering perdition's flames.
And in the cool, dark room on Memorial Island, Hobbs woke with her right leg burning. She had learned not to scream by now, and she sat up and grasped at the pains, but her fingers closed over an empty duvet and scrunched the cloth around thin air. The phantom pains were nothing new; her doctor had said that they would fade with time, but it would be slow. He explained that nerves have memory, and that the last thing her leg remembered feeling was being blown off by an RPG. At first, it was every ten seconds, the recurring pain of having her leg burned again and again and again. Six months ago, it was an hourly thing. Now it happened once or twice a day; and more commonly at night. There was nothing that could be done for the pain; it was psychological, not physical. Morphine didn't work. Not that she hadn't tried.
Hobbs turned over and looked at the digital clock on her bedside table. Two-fifteen. Damn it; she'd barely got three hours sleep. She heaved herself out of bed and made her way into the corridor, wheeling herself past wall lights that threw monster shadows around her as she passed by. She considered going to her usual workspace and working a little more on her latest project, but she stopped by the door and thought better of it.
She continued on.
Past the kitchens, through the mess hall, into the foyer. She slowed a little as she scanned the wall of carved names of the fallen, those who had died in the hunt. There were many of them... too many to count, but Hobbs was only interested in one name, and so far she hadn't found it. That was a comfort, she supposed, but it was possible that it was just hiding in away in a corner somewhere, unread and forgotten. And Hobbs rolled on, comforted for now that she hadn't found the name she was looking for.
She decided to go to the training rooms. There were firing ranges and punch bags and a whole bunch of machinery that Hobbs had never seen before and didn't know how to use. But there were also frames there, for pull-ups and whatnot. She was interested in those. She manoeuvred herself through the darkened halls, turning on the gym lights without waking up anyone else. And so, kicking open the gym door with her leg, she pushed herself into the gym and came up alongside the frameworks. She hoisted herself out of the wheelchair and stood for a moment, uncertain and wobbly on one foot, before pulling herself up onto the full-sized climbing frame and making a break for the top.
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Post by Vaughn Logan on Aug 9, 2012 19:07:55 GMT -5
Hunting has a funny way of being more waiting than anything else. Some nights nothing happens, other nights it's more than one can fathom. It was one of those nights. Vaughn sat still in the darkness. He was quiet, and patient. The gyms were the quietest places to go at night. Not many were eager to pop off a few rounds or break a sweat against the sand bags at this time. Many were either sleeping, hunting, or trying to find some satisfaction in the bars. Like usual, the air was muggy and dank. Fresh air was hard to come by down here. But if fresh air is what Vaughn wanted, he wouldn't be puffing on a cigar. In a dark corner of the training rooms he sat in a chair, leaning back, feet up on a weight bench, puffing on a cigar. Although the night was slow and not what he expected, he did what he could to still enjoy it.
He took in a large puff when he heard a faint but distinct sound in the distance. Honestly he wasn't sure what it could be. But as he drew nearer, it sounded like the screeching of wheels on hard concrete. He thought, and tried to search through his memory to remember who had access to a wheelchair. Unlike many, he read the records of his fellow hunters. Mainly it was due to distrust. Another part of him wanted to see if he could pinpoint the corruption. But Professionally, it didn't hurt to know the people around you. He put the cigar out and waited in the darkness. Finally the door crept open and she managed to push herself in. He watched her for a moment, and spoke softly, as not to startle her.
"I would offer help, but you don't look like you need it." He got up from the chair slowly and walked over. He had on his large brimmed hat, and long leather trench coat. He kept it unbuttoned so it hung off of him comfortable. "Yeung is it?" he said, with a cocked brow.
"I read your report. When you have time I was hoping you could take a look at my crossbow. See if you can make any improvements or tune ups with it. Normally I don't trust anyone with my equipment. But like I said, I read your report. I know you are someone I can trust. That's something I can't say about most of the others."
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Post by Hazel 'Hobbs' Yeung on Aug 9, 2012 20:04:14 GMT -5
Hobbs had never been much of a gymnast, but she scaled the frame fairly easily, considering. She got to the top, swung her good leg across the top, and begun to hang upside-down. As her hands reached for the next bar, a voice came from behind the equipment in some far corner of the gym. And Hobbs, thinking she'd been alone, nearly shat a brick.
She bolted upright again, clutching her t-shirt down over her stomach, and damn near fell off the frame. "Jesus Christ," she breathed, her dark eyes wild as they fell upon the man who came out of the corner wearing an ancient looking hat and some duster coat, puffing on some fat cigar. "What're you doing sitting in the corner of a dark gym? What kind of normal person does that?" she snapped, suddenly angry. Hobbs didn't startle easily, but sitting about in the dark was just plain creepy.
She became very self-aware then, purely because of the fact that she was wearing a faded festival t-shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. She pulled the large shirt neckline closer to her neck, wanting to cover the deep hollows of jutting collarbones. She was a wreck and she knew it. Nobody else had to, though. At the same time, her other hand moved over the bruises across the stump of her leg from weeks of testing tech that didn't work or didn't fit, pushing herself too hard on a limb she'd almost forgotten how to use.
He called her Yeung. Nobody called her Yeung. And he'd read... her report? As far as she knew there was nothing on her other than what she'd done since she came to the base. She got into hunting through pot luck, not through military recommendations or recruitment head hunters. "It's Hobbs," she retorted, her voice barely holding back a razorblade sharpness. Her eyes narrowed. People didn't use her surname, it just wasn't done. She'd become used to people calling her by the nickname and she was instantly suspicious of the man who sat in dark rooms alone and knew too much about her.
"Crossbows? What, are you out of the Dark Ages? I didn't even know people used them anymore. I could hook you up with a decent set of firearms and top of the range ammo, maybe even a set of explosives if you say 'please'." She swung herself down from the framework and sat on the lower bars at his eye level. "Besides, how can you be so sure you can trust me? You read a file, and hopefully not a very big one. You can't throw around trust so easily, moron."
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Post by Vaughn Logan on Aug 10, 2012 0:16:23 GMT -5
"If Hobbs is what you prefer..." He said trailing off. Reading a report and meeting people in person were two different things. But you can tell a lot about someone’s past.
"Dark Ages?" He cocked a brow and looked at her quizzically. "What is it you think we do here? Pick berries? I'm very strategic and efficient at what I do. If you weren't aware...joining the Compound means having a record kept of you. You think we let anyone in here who can shoot a gun?"
He wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of sleep she probably faced, her possible distrust of people, or if she was just rude. But it wasn't what he expected. "You find it surprising that I hid well in the dark? What if I wasn't a human? Hmm? What then?"
He then crossed his arms and shook his head. "I'll have you know I'm the new Commander for the Compound. The old one went AWOL. You got a problem? You can find your way to the door. Otherwise, get your shit together. I'm not here to babysit, I'm here to get results."
He turned away and walked back towards the chair in which he sat in. He grabbed his crossbow and rested it on his shoulder, taking another puff of his cigar. "It's gas powered, and automatic. How's that for dark-ages?"
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Post by Hazel 'Hobbs' Yeung on Aug 10, 2012 8:23:12 GMT -5
"Then I'd wonder how the fuck a vampire or werewolf got into the hunter base and bypassed our defences, idiot. We're not just sitting ducks out here, you know. And it's like- two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing sitting alone in the dark?" She raked back her short hair out of her face.
Get her shit together? Her shit was together just fine, thank you very much. "Well I must have missed the memo, but forgive me if I don't bow at your feet. The Commander's just a figurehead anyway. The Lieutenant's been doing more around the place. How about you start pulling your own weight around here?"
He turned and walked away, back to his lonely little corner in the shadows. Hobbs rolled her eyes and got down from the framework, then collapsed into the wheelchair again. Hands on the rear wheels, she followed the guy to his lonely little corner, making her way through the weight lifting machines. She rolled to a halt in front of him, put the brakes on, and sat cross-legged in her chair. "Wow, congratulations," she said dryly, "you managed to make a crossbow work almost as well as a gun would. Kudos to you, my man."
Hobbs exhaled deeply, like a winded rhinoceros, then stuck out her hand. "Just gimme the dumb crossbow. I need to take a look at it to see what I can do." Yeah, she was rude, but she was also a professional. She didn't do much hunting out in the city, and the only other way she could contribute was by whoring out her technological expertise. If she didn't do that then she might as well butt out of the base because she was of no use to anyone otherwise. And if this guy was the Commander that he claimed to be, then Hobbs knew when it was a good idea to shut her yapper and just do her job. Never piss off the higher-ups. It was a cardinal rule. Everyone else was fair game.
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Post by Vaughn Logan on Aug 10, 2012 14:56:39 GMT -5
"You make it seem as if the compound is in tip top shape from keeping those--Well, Vampires and Lycans out. I came back early from a hunt and needed someplace quiet to think." Vaughn didn't enjoy the idea of having to explain himself. Especially to someone who probably did give a shit anyway.
A part of him wanted to laugh. The Lieutenant was doing something? Hah. "If by doing something you mean picking up a new girl each night then yeah, he's doing a terrific job. I just got here. I'm not expecting you to kiss the bottom of my boot, but at least show me some respect."
The crossbow was his most valued weapon. It had helped him out before, in many situations. Guns tend to jam and not work as efficiently in many situations. Vaughn preferred the crossbow. It was something his father drew blueprints of, but could never finish. A slight smirk that he hide from Hobbs rose on his face when she asked to look at it. He handed it to her and tipped his head.
"Appreciated. At the moment since I don't have any assignments for you, this is top priority. You may think of me as only a figurehead, but the Lieutenant and I are going to be changing this place. And I'd like to know, that if we need it, you are willing to help. Which probably means helping to upgrade defenses and things of the like."
Her attitude maybe wasn't the most enjoyable thing about her. But at least she got shit done. And around here, especially in the Hunters Compound, that's all Vaughn was looking for; Results. Finally.
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Post by Hazel 'Hobbs' Yeung on Aug 10, 2012 15:22:54 GMT -5
You make it seem as if the compound is in tip top shape from keeping those--Well, Vampires and Lycans out. "Isn't it?" Hobbs asked sharply. She could design an entry system based on retinal ID scanners, passwords, voice recognition systems, thumbprint pads, UV lights and silver nitrate-infused air if she was but asked. It would maybe take her a month or two, but she'd get it done. They need only ask, and she'd do it. She'd suspected that the base was protected by more than just water, but now he made her doubt that. She'd expected the hunters to be better prepared than that.
He also made the Lieutenant sound like a womaniser. And maybe he was, but all Hobbs knew was that he kept the base running when the Commander had been AWOL. So this wasn't the same Commander who had fucked off, this was some newly appointed guy. Hobbs just knew that the Lieutenant had been in charge when the Commander hadn't. That was enough to get him a shred of respect.
"I don't expect assignments, Commander. Honestly. I'm in a wheelchair." She gestured downwards to her seat on wheels. "That doesn't inspire much confidence in other people. Most of my work is helping others in the hunt rather than hunting myself. I could show you what I've been working on if you want." She wiggled the fingers of her outstretched hand. She needed to see his crossbow, and he hadn't yet handed it over. "So what're these changes you're making around here?"
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Post by Vaughn Logan on Aug 10, 2012 17:23:12 GMT -5
"Listen Hobbs. If your wheelchair is going to be used as a crutch and keeping you from doing your job, you can leave. I have jobs in mind I'd like you to help out with. These jobs, if done correctly, will save a lot of future lives. I'm sorry you are the way you are. But don't expect a lot of that pity crap, especially around here. Alright? I know you can get shit done. That's why I'm asking for help. If I thought otherwise, I wouldn't be bothering you now. "
He let out a grin and looked around the training room casually before replying. "I feel it's not as organized as it could be. I've watched the Hunters going out there. I feel we need more teams. Solo jobs should only be given to those who are experienced. I'm hoping to drop the casualty rates. That plaque out front..--It's got too many names out there. I don't know about you, but I don't want to add to it. The Lieutenant did what he could, but without direct orders he's lost. Earlier I had a chat with him and he nearly broke down on me. Can you depend on someone like that?"
"--I'm sure he is a skilled hunter, don't get me wrong. But he's not cut out for directly leading. At least not yet. Everyone can grow from this change, even me."
Instead of handing it to her, Vaughn set it down on the weight bench in front of her. He watched her looking over and handling the crossbow. To his amazement she toyed with it as if she already knew how it worked inside and out. He wanted to offer her the blueprints, but he didn't think it mattered at this point. "Anything. I don't have problems with jamming. But I figured if anyone could make any enhancements it'd be you."
"The location of this place makes it easy to defend. But it could use enhancements. Ways of preventing unwanted Vampires or Lycans into the building. I'd like you to do some research on that, think of ways to improve security and get back to me. We'll need to do a full sweep of the place with the Lt.; check weak spots and go from there. Understood?"
He was used to sounding formal and giving orders, not taking them. He was always used to getting the finger afterwards. But that's okay. Those were the kinds of people he was used to leading. Those kinds of people have heart and character.
Vaughn had no doubt in his mind that she could do some damage to an intruder, even if she was in a wheelchair. From her records he knew she was highly capable. Although he did feel some pity. But that pity he didn't show. Perhaps in time they could come up with a way of getting her to walk upright again.
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Post by Hazel 'Hobbs' Yeung on Aug 10, 2012 18:14:15 GMT -5
She picked up the crossbow that was put on the bench and began to fiddle with it, trying out the smoothness of the trigger, pulling back the cord and running a finger along it to test out the spring. She collapsed the arms, flipped them back out again, placed the butt of the handle against her shoulder and peered down its length. She'd never touched one of these before, but she knew the hinges and understood the mechanisms. The more she turned it over, ran her hands along it, the more she understood it. It was a handsome weapon, but she could always make it better.
"Don't give me that crap," she bit back at him, glancing up from the crossbow. "You think I like sitting in this chair? Of course not, it sucks giant donkey balls. I'm working on a decent leg to rely on but right now it's not done yet. I'm not a stranger to walking, and I'm getting pretty good at it, but it's not going to be an instant thing." She glanced down at her half-leg, mottled black and blue in the shadows from bruising. "It'll be a few months before I'm up and about on a leg I can trust and a while after that before I rebuild the muscles I lost."
But she also needed to slow the hell down. She was shredding herself without building herself up. She had no muscle mass and no stamina. That's why she took night-time trips to the gym, to try and rectify that. Her determination to push herself harder wasn't doing her any good, and her insomnia wasn't helping, either.
She collapsed the crossbow arms again and weighed it in her hands. It could do with being lighter, and she could make some custom bolts for it.
He was sorry she was the way she was? Hobbs wasn't. Not a day went by that she regretted how things were. Shit happened and she dealt with it. She was a stronger person now, and there were so many more possibilities open to her. She hated pity. Hated the sympathy people gave her. Fuck sympathy. Fuck it all. She didn't want people to go easy on her. She glared at him with fire in her eyes.
"Don't start thinking of me as a hindrance," she snarled. "I'm one of the most useful people around here, even now." Did this man have any idea how much she'd already done for them in her short stay? Did he realise how much more she could do for them? He mentioned that the place could do with better defences, and Hobbs could think of nobody better suited to the job than herself. "I can get started on plans and forward them to you," she said, before looking down to the weapon in her hands.
"Well, your crossbow seems like a fine machine," she said, her hands still working through the mechanisms. "I could replace the handle if you like? Carbon fibre and aluminium would make it far lighter. I could replace the cord to add more power, add a sniper scope, and I could start making a monthly batch of UV and silver nitrate bolts if you want. I know we have an existing formula for tracer rounds but I'm working on ammo that doesn't give away your position when you fire."
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Post by Vaughn Logan on Aug 11, 2012 12:35:13 GMT -5
"I don't care much about it being lighter. If a Vampire or Lycan gets a whack at it, or even if it falls to the ground I don't want it falling in a dozen pieces. Instead of a sniper scope I was thinking something more like a movable red dot sight--Something I can move to the side if I don't need it and it isn't in the way. As for everything else you mentioned that sounds fine by me. Anything that can make my job more efficient. Also I'd like for you to look into making my ammo clips larger or even more transportable. Right now it's--Well, I'm sure you can guess how much of a pain it can be. I'll need it ready by the time I go on my next hunt. But that'll be a while since the Lt. and I have to coordinate ways to improve the Hunting Compound anyway."
He then took out a flask and took a large swig. Vaughn felt his eyelids becoming heavy but he wasn't ready for rest. Coffee didn't typically work, and he needed a pick me up.
"Another thing Hobbs, don't assume you know what I'm thinking. If I thought you a hindrance you wouldn't be here because it's my job to make sure we don't lose more Hunters out there. I know what you've done here. And I know damn well that you are capable of doing a hell of a lot more."
Vaughn didn't understood how people around here could be so damn dramatic. First it was the Lt. and now Hobbs. Perhaps it was something in Hobbs' past that made her act the way she did, or perhaps she had no respect for Vaughn other than him being commander. In that case he could relate. He had no respect for authority either. And while he did want to be looked on as the Commander, he did want to be taken seriously. Perhaps Vaughn was a fool for thinking he'd get that respect so early in the game; he'd have to prove his worth, one way or another.
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