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View Full Version : [FRIGGIN HUGE] The Mechanics of Gunfighting.


Spee
2004-11-09, 05:10 PM
<i> God, Money, Just tell me what you want me to...</i>

A man Stands between two others. A gun, one identical to the other, pointed at each man, one in each outstretched arm. The gunman is fairly well dressed - Black slacks, polished wingtip shoes, white dress shirt, thin black tie, black suit coat of as rather thin material, as it's quite lightweight. His head is impeccably bald - Shaven to be a desolate desert of rounded flesh. Eyes shift to the left.

A man stands besides a pillar in this dingy warehouse, wearing mostly black. Tight black shirt, black slacks, black shoes, of indiscernable type. Quite fit and capable-looking. He stands there, hunched over, as if ready to sprint, vein-ridden arms bobbing occasionally as he engaged in a mental practice to prepare oneself for running. Eyes wide under black slicked-back hair. A bit of stubble on his darkened cheeks.

Eyes shift right.

A caucasian male, roughly early thirties, stands, relaxed-looking. White dress-shirt, which fluttered about untucked, spattered with the occasional bit of blood, is mostly covered in swaths of grime and filth. Said swaths seem to indicate some sort of inertia when coming into contact with it - Sliding across it, perhaps? Most logical assumption. Damp, blonde hair clings to forehead, as left hand drifts to right sleeve, rolling it up into a mid-forearm cuff. Right hand returning Left Hand's favor, Cuffs now revelling in asymmetric efficient glee. Dark slacks, like shirt, is also quite grimy, and the once-brilliant wingtips are a bit more worse for wear.

Eyes shift center. A series of synapses firing which trigger a series of molecular structures to tighten, pulling at a set of twin rubber tubes into an awkward crescent, as he smirked mischeviously.

Both hands released the guns. Bald sprinted away from the arena, to cover, joining his crowd of mortified spirits, as they all watched the gladitorial sport of gunslinging.

Black and White both ran at the site of where both objects were felled, hearts fluttering as the pump sent fluids at a breakneck speed to contracting and expanding fibrous materials, which partiall oxidized the liquid, sending it back to the pump for reoxidification. A few droplets of sweat ran down Black's forehead, likely from pressure, as this warehouse had an ambient temperature of about 40 degrees, Fahrenheit.

Both men reached each gun at the same time.

White slid to get his, as did Black, cold, pale hands ensconcing the pistol's handle first, bringing it up to bear. As this occured however, black knocked the barrel aside with a strong slap, white reflexively pulling the trigger as the gun partially went out of control.

The pulling of the trigger initiated a series of actions within gears, powered by a small battery, which resulted in a hammer with an enormously-powered spring to cock a small chunk of metal backwards, lock for a brief moment, and then unlock, the spring discharging its energy into the chunk, the chunk flying downwards to strike at copper-based alloy before it. The heat caused by the amount of friction activated a crude substance within the copper casing, causing a massive explosion, Which did 2 things, that were noticable immidiatly. First off, it rocked the housing structure backwards, exposing a hole in the housing, and secondly, resulted in the large object at the tip of the structure to be rocketed off, guided by a tubelike structure to be born into the world with much Fire, Noise, and Fanfare.

As the reddish object hurtled through the air, the allow which housed the powder was thrown out of its housing through a series of levers, switches, and hammers. The housing then slid back into place, a hole opening up over the magazine space, which allowed another structure to be loaded into the combustion chamber. It was then locked securely into place, and prepped for death.

Black picked up his gun and tried to stand immidiatly. White had already regained control of his gun, aimed, and discharged another roung towards the man.

The process was repeated, only with the reddish hunk of lead exterminating it's course of travel on the dingy, yet polished, marble surface of the floor. The force cracked and shattered the substance a small amount, sending fragments every which way, akin to confetti at a parade. A small "ting" of the casing hitting the earth, smoke pouring out of it, was rowned out by another shot, which did not come from white's barrel.

Black's gun had undergone the process, and discharged a round at white. The round screamed through the air, finding malleable flesh between the lowest part of the collar bone, and the rotary cuff. The peice of lead screamed through flesh, pushing it out of it's way crudely, before meeting another barrier of flesh, which it, like it did to the others, blew through, resulting in several circumstances at once occuring.

1) The skin reflexively responded to being stretched, and flapped open as the bullet exited the body. Blood burst from the initial wound, and then dribbled out a bit. The Bullet hit the marble, chipping it, but painting over the minor imperfection with a gout of grimson from White.

2) Caused a series of synapses to fire in the body, travelling to White's nervous center, making him realize that a part of him had just been killed. The tearing of flesh and sinew, that the bullet had acheived so effectively, would burn like liquid fire inside White, nervses crying out in pain and grief for their lost brothers of the Flesh.

3) Caused White's arm to jerk back, towards him reflexively, also causing him to pull the trigger once more.

The peice of lead from White's gun hit Black in the Knee.

The reddish object went through the outer barrier of flesh with much easer, however, upon getting there, met with stiff resistance from large, white structures therein. UNable to change it's course, The bullet slammed into the structures, resulting in splinters of said structure fragmenting within the body. Without much subtlely, or much cleanliness, the projectile punched a hole through a peice of thick calcium. This, like everything else depicted here, caused a several reactions.

1) The sudden imbalance of losing one leg's stability, in addition with the incredible pain of having a 9mm piercing through bone brought Black crashing down, which didn't help in the least, as he landed on the wounded knee.

And then, a cry of pain. A faint clicking, another blast. a gout of blood flew from Black's body. Grunting and suffering. White stands. White empties the remaining bullets in his gun into Black. Black's life ends.

White walks off. A victim of not understanding the complexities inherent of even the smallest things.

------------------------

I wrote this mainly as a contrast of styles. From hyper-detailed, structured, and order-oriented, to vague, and having the reader imagine what was going on. I also wrote it because I feel that a lot of the complexities in things are being left ouf of movies and television and such. Yes, it works, but How? Why? This caters to that particular set of questions.

Firefly
2004-11-09, 05:32 PM
Whites killing blacks. Sounds racist OMG!!! B4N!~!

Hezzy
2004-11-09, 06:22 PM
*reads title*

Equilibrium anyone?

eXoSloth
2004-11-09, 06:41 PM
Very nice, although I believe it got too detailed at some points (the description of the gun firing)

martyr
2004-11-09, 08:54 PM
- there are no gears
- bullets are usually copper-jacketed lead, the repetition of "reddish lead" irked me just a bit
- the next round is fed when the slide is at it's rearward position, not after it cycles
- much criticism of grammar and spelling

- overall cool.

Spee
2004-11-09, 09:52 PM
- much criticism of grammar and spelling

- overall cool.


Thanks. However, I have a habit of not proofreading things I write out of boredom. I could correct it, however, I am a lazy bitch.

martyr
2004-11-09, 10:37 PM
oh, if you wrote it out of boredom, then who cares. nice work

Firefly
2004-11-10, 12:55 AM
- there are no gears
As I understood it, I thought he meant the "inner workings". Which some are deceptively easy, and others are a bit more complex. Like the lower receiver of an M4 or M16, which have things that "layspeakers" would consider to be gears for lack of a better term besides "guts".