Beltran Rarr
Character
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Public The Great Imperial Shooting Competition [open to shooters and spectators]
- Thread starter Konrad Harrsk
- Start date
S N A K E
“Don’t mistake luck for skill, Harrsk. I’m sure Lady Luck only pities you,” hoping his words would brew more arrogance in
Konrad Harrsk
. Overconfidence naturally led to failure.
Adjusting the sights, before taking aim. He fired and it landed exactly like his first shot.
“Back to square one.”
It was way better than his previous shot.
Konrad Harrsk
. Overconfidence naturally led to failure.Adjusting the sights, before taking aim. He fired and it landed exactly like his first shot.
“Back to square one.”
It was way better than his previous shot.
demon’s head
FOURTH ROUND
His face turned red when the Ithorian dared to address him with such insolence.
"Don't you have plants to water?" he grumbled, then turned back to the target. A slight shake in his grip. How dared he disrespect him? He, the Demon's Head, grandson of the great He of Two Horns, heir to the Axis of Shadows.
The blaster grazed the right shoulder of the target.
"Ref! The Ithorian scum is clearly employing active measures to disrupt my clear superiority over this competition!"
| SHOOTER | FIRST ROUND | SECOND ROUND | THIRD ROUND | FOURTH ROUND | FIFTH ROUND | TOTAL |
|
Konrad Harrsk
| 4 | 3 | 18 | 13 | ||
Jerec Asyr
| 8 | 6 | 10 | |||
| Cord | 14 | 1 | 4 | |||
Beltran Rarr
| 6 | 18 | 15 | |||
Lao Pak
| 5 | 5 | roll you fool | |||
Trajan Fett
| 16 | 14 | 17 | |||
Djorn Bline
| 12 | 7 | 12 | |||
Hazel T'hess
| 11 | 8 | 16 |
Mandalorian Venom
As confident as ever, Volker leaned into his next shot, fired...only to hear the click of the trigger's mechanism. He pulled back, prying open the power pack of the carbine before seating it in and aiming down the sights again- regulating his breathing before squeezing the trigger once more.
Click.
Nothing.
Wait...what?
The gun that Volker had reliably used for YEARS now was just...not firing?
Pull the trigger again-
The gun rattled off an uncontrollable three round burst, the bolts beating into the metal flooring and walls around the target, barely scraping the corner of the silhouette.
Good start- bad follow through.
Beltran Rarr
Character
Fourth Round:
[1d20]=19
Beltran took another breath, letting it out slowly, while narrowing his eyes. He focused himself in the Force, letting his sense of special awareness expand to encompass the area around him. He then fired another shot, landing just shy of bullseye.
"Getting better," He murmured as he lowered his hand-cannon.
[1d20]=19
Beltran took another breath, letting it out slowly, while narrowing his eyes. He focused himself in the Force, letting his sense of special awareness expand to encompass the area around him. He then fired another shot, landing just shy of bullseye.
"Getting better," He murmured as he lowered his hand-cannon.
S N A K E
Fourth target. He had the chance to swing this around his favor. Just had to shoot damn well and straight to center mass.
He fired with intense focus and was just about worse as his second shot. A sigh of frustration exhaled from his nostrils, disappointed in his accuracy with a rifle.
At least he was doing better than Harrsk by a few points.
It would all come down to the last target.
He fired with intense focus and was just about worse as his second shot. A sigh of frustration exhaled from his nostrils, disappointed in his accuracy with a rifle.
At least he was doing better than Harrsk by a few points.
It would all come down to the last target.
Beltran Rarr
Character
Final Round:
[1d20]=13
Coming off the success of his last shot, Beltran aimed and fired another in quick succession. It wasn't as good, and he suspected that he'd allowed his feeling of triumph from the last shot cloud his judgment.
"Well," He said, lowering his weapon. "It is what it is. The Force determines all."
(OOC: Not meaning to jump the line or anything, just wanted to ensure I didn't forget about this as things start heating back up post holidays)
[1d20]=13
Coming off the success of his last shot, Beltran aimed and fired another in quick succession. It wasn't as good, and he suspected that he'd allowed his feeling of triumph from the last shot cloud his judgment.
"Well," He said, lowering his weapon. "It is what it is. The Force determines all."
(OOC: Not meaning to jump the line or anything, just wanted to ensure I didn't forget about this as things start heating back up post holidays)
Lao Pak
Character
"This is not good. This is not good!" Lao Pak muttered as he watched the other participants and their scores. That damnable Mandalorian
Trajan Fett
was ahead of him and even though he got a quick start and had pulled ahead in this round of most others they were shooting more consistent than he. Round 4 could easily put them over.
"Lao Pak needs to find a way to even the playing field...L9!"
"Yes sir?"
"You can kill that Mando?"
"Sir, that would be a direct violation of the rules."
"Electrocute the competition?"
"Also against the rules." Lao Pak cursed.
"What about you mess with his blaster? Or slice terminal holding score points? Can the useless L9 do that?" The Corellian Hunter Killer droid pondered for a moment then looked down at its master.
"Also against the rules."
"GAAAAH"
Trajan Fett
was ahead of him and even though he got a quick start and had pulled ahead in this round of most others they were shooting more consistent than he. Round 4 could easily put them over. "Lao Pak needs to find a way to even the playing field...L9!"
"Yes sir?"
"You can kill that Mando?"
"Sir, that would be a direct violation of the rules."
"Electrocute the competition?"
"Also against the rules." Lao Pak cursed.
"What about you mess with his blaster? Or slice terminal holding score points? Can the useless L9 do that?" The Corellian Hunter Killer droid pondered for a moment then looked down at its master.
"Also against the rules."
"GAAAAH"
demon’s head
FINAL ROUND
Over the hills and far away.
Konrad's eye twitched.
| SHOOTER | FIRST ROUND | SECOND ROUND | THIRD ROUND | FOURTH ROUND | FIFTH ROUND | TOTAL |
|
Konrad Harrsk
| 4 | 3 | 18 | 13 | 1 | 39 |
|
Jerec Asyr
| 8 | 6 | 10 | roll you fool | roll you fool | |
| Cord | 14 | 1 | 4 | roll you fool | roll you fool | |
|
Beltran Rarr
| 6 | 18 | 15 | 19 | 13 | 58 |
|
Lao Pak
| 5 | 5 | 13 | 18 | ||
|
Trajan Fett
| 16 | 14 | 17 | 1 | ||
|
Djorn Bline
| 12 | 7 | 12 | 9 | ||
|
Hazel T'hess
| 11 | 8 | 16 | roll you fool | roll you fool |
Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
Jerec made an a Ithorian gesture of unspeakable crudeness. "I got your watering can right here, bub."
That final shot felt like redemption. He twirled his gun and holstered it with a satisfied nod. Total score: not the worst. Better than Harrsk, thank feth.
"Hey buddy. Sixth round, you and me behind the swoop bike racks. I'm betting I knock you on your skinny patuutie with one shot." He tapped his forehead. "Right here. I'll put you down."
Cord
Character
Shoot! [1d20]=7
Shoot! [1d20]=6
Total: 32
Cord never quite recovered from the injury to his primary hand. Too proud to admit he was injured, he continued to shoot with his off hand. His next shot hit the left leg of the target, the final shot hit just under his fourth. Gritting his teeth he looked at the scoreboard. Not everyone was done yet, but it looked like Cord was going to place last. Behind an Ithorian of all things.
How embarrassing.
Shoot! [1d20]=6
Total: 32
Cord never quite recovered from the injury to his primary hand. Too proud to admit he was injured, he continued to shoot with his off hand. His next shot hit the left leg of the target, the final shot hit just under his fourth. Gritting his teeth he looked at the scoreboard. Not everyone was done yet, but it looked like Cord was going to place last. Behind an Ithorian of all things.
How embarrassing.
demon’s head
"Very well, serf - I shall indulge in your petty mind games-- Sancho - my blaster." the aide set it to stun and hurried after his master behind the swoop bike racks. Meanwhile, the last of the shooters were lining up their shots.
They stood back to back, then took a dozen paces from each other before turning and firing.
Clearly, Konrad would most likely wake up an hour later.
Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers
Fumes burst through his nostrils at the Ithorian's cynicism. He would've preferred to simply gut this animal, alas--
"Very well, serf - I shall indulge in your petty mind games-- Sancho - my blaster." the aide set it to stun and hurried after his master behind the swoop bike racks. Meanwhile, the last of the shooters were lining up their shots.
They stood back to back, then took a dozen paces from each other before turning and firing.
Clearly, Konrad would most likely wake up an hour later.
As Konrad drew and fired (with cataclysmic results, albeit not necessarily memorable ones), Jerec fired also.
"Yes. YES. That was all skill."
It dawned on Jerec as he holstered his gun that he was basically talking to himself. He spat on the ground with all four throats and walked away from the unconscious Imperial operative.
"Got your watering can right here. That's right..."
S N A K E
Last round.
He hoped this one to be better than his previous shots. He took his time, making sure everything was perfect; alas, it would not matter after the pull of the trigger.
Worse than all his other four aims.
“Fuck off,” he muttered to himself in anger.
TOTAL: 44
He hoped this one to be better than his previous shots. He took his time, making sure everything was perfect; alas, it would not matter after the pull of the trigger.
Worse than all his other four aims.
“Fuck off,” he muttered to himself in anger.
TOTAL: 44
Mandalorian Venom
He felt pretty confident about his performance, being the token Mando on scene- it made enough sense to him that he might've taken the crown of the competition.