Post by Deleted on Apr 26, 2011 1:26:05 GMT -5
It was just about midday, right at the precise time that Deadshot had to have his little area set up for his attack. The target was, in his eyes at least, a nobody. Another talking head politician that deserved whatever he got. Not that he particularly cared a great deal about his target at all. The amount of research that went into the project of James DeLaney began and ended with his habits. Apparently every day the man woke up at 5:30am, made the 13 mile drive to work in his Lexus ES 350 via the highway and taking a slight detour to avoid the high volumes of traffic near his office. He parked in the staff lot, made the short trek to his office on the fourth floor of the government building. His window was the third one to the left. At approximately 11:45am, he would leave for his hour long lunch break. But this time, he wouldn't be making it back to his office. Not with his head still attached, at least.
The conditions that day were just about as ideal as it could get during this time of the year. The sky was clear and the sun was out, but it wasn't obnoxiously bright and reflecting off the metallic surfaces that coated Metropolis. Though, something about Metropolis itself, Floyd had noticed in his travels here, was that it did always seem to have a .. bright quality about it. Unlike Gotham City, which always seemed so gloomy and dark. If given the choice, he'd pick Gotham any day. The lighting was so much more in his favor.
In his full red get-up with his yellow leather gloves covering his hands and his brown trench coat offering more surface area to hide ammunition within and giving him a bit of extra warmth, Deadshot was ready for his kill. His weapon of choice was a military grade M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System, regularly boasted throughout the military firearm industry to be one of the best sniper rifles the US had in it's armory. With his hands on it, it would be one of the most deadly as well.
Keeping cover along a roof adjacent to the building that he'd be shooting the man down nearby, Deadshot kept his metallic mask off of his face for the moment while he snapped the guns parts into place. Care was taken to insure that everything was set up properly, and to insure proper balance within the weapon, he held the scope to his face and closed his left eye, getting a judge of how heavy it was yet again since it'd been a while since he'd actually used this particular beauty. Smirking to himself when all seemed right, he gathered up his mask and clicked everything into place behind his head, flicking on the singular red-eyed scope over his right eye.
Standing up, Deadshot made his way to the ledge of the building, and crouched down, letting the barrel of the rifle rest on the cleared off slab of cement as he looked for his target through the sights of his own personal scope that his eyesight was, in a sense, filtered through. Getting a visual on the man; a tall, overweight man wearing a suit that probably cost him thousands, glasses, and forming a bald spot on the very top of his head.. that'd be his target. Looking through his scope, the little ticks inside the bionic element focused on on the shining bit of flesh on the man's cranium, and within just a moment, Deadshot pulled the butt of the gun to his shoulder, rested his finger on the trigger, and made a perfect, killing shot to the head.
Moving the gun from in front of his eye, Deadshot watched as the people that were about the size of cockroaches below him at the moment screamed and scattered, and he zoomed the eye in on the dead body of his target, noting the brain matter splattered about on the pavement. Grinning behind his mask, he collected the blank shell of the gun that'd fallen from the barrel, with his initials, D.S., engraved into the side.
"Another happy customer." He said to himself, and sat the embossed cartridge down upright on the ledge, standing up, ready to make his exit after a completed hit.
---
ooc: Police or reporter characters: feel free to investigate this in the thread, but Deadshot will be long gone. Getting his NPC kills up to boost his ego because that's how he rolls.
The conditions that day were just about as ideal as it could get during this time of the year. The sky was clear and the sun was out, but it wasn't obnoxiously bright and reflecting off the metallic surfaces that coated Metropolis. Though, something about Metropolis itself, Floyd had noticed in his travels here, was that it did always seem to have a .. bright quality about it. Unlike Gotham City, which always seemed so gloomy and dark. If given the choice, he'd pick Gotham any day. The lighting was so much more in his favor.
In his full red get-up with his yellow leather gloves covering his hands and his brown trench coat offering more surface area to hide ammunition within and giving him a bit of extra warmth, Deadshot was ready for his kill. His weapon of choice was a military grade M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System, regularly boasted throughout the military firearm industry to be one of the best sniper rifles the US had in it's armory. With his hands on it, it would be one of the most deadly as well.
Keeping cover along a roof adjacent to the building that he'd be shooting the man down nearby, Deadshot kept his metallic mask off of his face for the moment while he snapped the guns parts into place. Care was taken to insure that everything was set up properly, and to insure proper balance within the weapon, he held the scope to his face and closed his left eye, getting a judge of how heavy it was yet again since it'd been a while since he'd actually used this particular beauty. Smirking to himself when all seemed right, he gathered up his mask and clicked everything into place behind his head, flicking on the singular red-eyed scope over his right eye.
Standing up, Deadshot made his way to the ledge of the building, and crouched down, letting the barrel of the rifle rest on the cleared off slab of cement as he looked for his target through the sights of his own personal scope that his eyesight was, in a sense, filtered through. Getting a visual on the man; a tall, overweight man wearing a suit that probably cost him thousands, glasses, and forming a bald spot on the very top of his head.. that'd be his target. Looking through his scope, the little ticks inside the bionic element focused on on the shining bit of flesh on the man's cranium, and within just a moment, Deadshot pulled the butt of the gun to his shoulder, rested his finger on the trigger, and made a perfect, killing shot to the head.
Moving the gun from in front of his eye, Deadshot watched as the people that were about the size of cockroaches below him at the moment screamed and scattered, and he zoomed the eye in on the dead body of his target, noting the brain matter splattered about on the pavement. Grinning behind his mask, he collected the blank shell of the gun that'd fallen from the barrel, with his initials, D.S., engraved into the side.
"Another happy customer." He said to himself, and sat the embossed cartridge down upright on the ledge, standing up, ready to make his exit after a completed hit.
---
ooc: Police or reporter characters: feel free to investigate this in the thread, but Deadshot will be long gone. Getting his NPC kills up to boost his ego because that's how he rolls.