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[Academy RP] | Militärfestival 2018 - Skeet shooting


Rhodellia

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Gottesberg, Rhodellia

A snapshot into a citizens life, at a cultural event.

The air cracked and clay shattered. The blue sky turned red with paint. Cheers shook the whole stadium. The athlete responsible - a tan-skinned Creole man whose name read ‘Eztli Schmidt’ on the big screen - grinned at the blood-coloured clouds blowing away in the wind. He shouldered his service rifle and saluted the audience.
My buddy sitting next to me, Siegfried, went speechless. You could see him staring, blinking, and rubbing his eyes in confusion. I laughed.
‘Told you it was a “blink and you miss it” kind of thing.’
Siegfried joined the applause as the next athlete stepped up for his turn.
‘I can’t believe you meant it literally.’
Of course he was in disbelief. This was his first time personally seeing the Skeet shooting event at Militärfestival. It’s a whole different experience from watching last year’s replays on the internet.
‘Ten clay pigeons…’ Siegfried watched the current shooter make his way to the stand ‘...all exploding in less than a second from the start...’ he exhaled ‘...just from one dude with a rifle. I swear this guy's got aimhacks.’
‘VAC banned, amirite?’
‘Yeah, man!’ Siegfried chuckled ‘Seriously though... this shit is unreal. He’s a real life Global Elite.’
I looked at the big screen. The next shooter was Konrad Reitz, representing my home state of Janbourg. He played for Janbourg’s Skeet shooting team last year. My mates and I watched last year’s finals at the pub. The guy finished as a gold medallist, and the whole bar went full hype. What happened next remains, to this day, a complete blank. He also visited my old secondary school before Militärfestival as a guest marksmanship instructor. Apparently he’s a pretty cool guy. My little sister got her rifle autographed by him, and you can still see it marked on the receiver.
Reitz winked at the crowd. He raised his rifle to the horizon. His turn had begun. Ten clay pigeons whizzed out left, right, and centre from every weird angle imaginable. Reitz swung the muzzle. Babababababababababang! Ten red clouds now floated away. Over as soon as it began, just as I expected.
‘Whoa…’ Siegfried pointed at the big screen ‘He’s like point-one-five seconds faster than Schmidt!’
‘Reitz’s pretty good.’ I nodded with a smirk ‘Clear gold medallist second year running. Easy betting money.’
Applause and whistles erupted all over the stadium as Reitz left for the bench. He shook hands with Schmidt. Both seemed to be having a good laugh, like a friendly rivalry. 
‘I wish our shooting instructors back in secondary school were this good.’ Siegfried spoke as the athlete after Reitz began walking up for his turn ‘They were great, don't get me wrong. But this guy's on a whole other level. Imagine all the marks we’d have gotten in our Skill-at-Arms exams if we knew Reitz’s technique.’
‘Mate, weren’t you still one of the best marksmen in our school year back then? Your shot groupings were tighter than bark on a tree. ’
‘Yeah, but I was still nowhere near this good. Just watching these athletes play makes I wish I spent more time at the KD range’
‘Just you wait.’ I reassured Siegfried ‘We’ll be conscripts when we get out of sixth form college in like... half a year. I hear a lot of medal-winners from Militärfestival go on to become instructors in boot camp and Infantry School, training up the next generation of soldiers as lean, green killing machines.’
‘I’m doing my National Service after Uni though. I’m completing Masters before signing up for military academy’
‘Ha, f*ckin’ POG.’
‘I thought you were gonna study economics or something. Didn’t you get an offer from the Gottesberg School of Economics?’
‘I did, but my dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa were all riflemen. My mum, and grandma were tank gunners. My great-grandma was a sniper. Gotta keep up our country's warrior traditions after a-’ the crowd roared around us ‘-what the hell?’
Siegfried, deafeningly wordless, shook my shoulder and pointed to the big screen.
While Siegfried and I were talking, another athlete came up: Laurenz von Strauß. He shot down all 10 clay pigeons point-one-two seconds faster than Reitz. This man was a living aimbot. Judging from the “Ritter von” nobiliary particle in his name, he’s a knight; he’s probably one of those upper class guys descended from back when Rhodellia still legally recognised noble privilege. Strauß saluted the crowds, high fived the remaining, stunned athletes still in line, and shook both Schmidt and Reitz’s hands before sitting down and drinking from a plastic water bottle. This behaviour was the last I’d expect from an upper class guy, and I could already sense the memes being made out of his high fives.
‘Did you see that?’
‘Well shit.’ I chuckled ‘Looks like I’ve got twenty reichsthaler less out of my bank account the next time I see an ATM… with a short queue, that is. The line-up of medallists for the Skeet shooting final’s been settled. Oh well.'
‘Mhm.’ Siegfried nodded ‘By the way… What time does the Panzerfahren finals take place?’
‘Uh… I think it’s at fifteen hundred today at King Wilhelm II Stadium. Königheim’s team vs Rabeswalde’s… Twenty tanks versus twenty.’
‘That’s awesome.’ Siegfried clasped his hands together ‘You know that tank destroyer ace from the Königheim team, who went absolutely f*cking ham last match?’
‘Yeah. Erika Wittmann. She's exploded all over the internet. Fan art of her's been nuking my Wittier feed since the semi-finals. Even the goddamn otaku have caught on... Not that I have any complaints.’
‘I sure hope the Königheim team wins. That feel when no panzer ace waifu...'
 

Edited by Rhodellia (see edit history)
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