FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Deadeye, the new fox, found himself wandering around the mansion, wondering the hallways. His eyes darted around the first floor sub basement of the facility to explore and familiarize himself with the house. He eventually found himself in a very long room with several booths. The room he had discovered was a firing range. As he slowly walked from booth to booth, he noticed a side arm was laid out on the counter. It was a Sig Sauer .45 caliber pistol with both a flashlight and red dot laser pointer for precision aim, and a loaded clip beside it. He stopped when he noticed the weapon on the table and slowly stepped into the booth to look at the weapon.

The fox slowly reached out to the weapon when he had the strangest feeling he was being watched. His ear twitched slightly as if that would aid him in picking up the silence of the room. He suddenly picked up the weapon and spun to aim the pistol behind him to discover no one was there. He sighed a bit now knowing he was alone, until he heard a cackle coming from behind him. He made another quick spin to point his weapon to the source.

It was a slightly heavy set racoon garbed in a suit similar to everyone elses, tight fitting leather outfit with a racoon symbol on his chest that had a bright red hue. The fox was thrown a back though when he noticed the raccoon was upside down, starring back with an almost amused look upon his face.

"Ya know, you should really be careful where you aim that thing kid... you're just lucky I knew it wasn't loaded." he said in a beguiled tone.

"Who are you?" the fox said as he lowered the pistol.

"That's for me to know and you to find out kid!" he replied right before hopping off the ceiling with a flip to land on his feet. "What can you tell me about that pistol."

The fox's attention once again focused on the weapon as he hefted it, getting a good feel for the weight and size of the weapon. "Definitely unlike anything I'm used to. It seems a little off kilter with the weight, like all the weight was designed to be at the end of the barrel."

"uh huh..." the raccoon mused as he began pacing back and forth, "and?"

He turned so he could see the end of the barrel and noticed something extremely peculiar. "There's a slot at the end of the barrel?"

"YES!!!!!" The raccoon screamed and practically hugged the fox. "Finally, someone who appreciates my genius!"

Deadeye's brow raised in confusion, "What's it for?"

"YES! yes what's it for... I'll show you!" As the Raccoon raced off to one of the ammo cases. He opens a drawer and pulled out what looked like a blade without a hilt, just a short strip of metal at the end that one would see when they'd use a ballistic knife. Deadeye noticed the raccoon's movements were almost cartoonish in cadence, a bit overdramatic as well. As the Raccoon shuffled back, he slapped the blade into the slot the fox had pointed out earlier. "BAM!!!! switch from ranged to close combat one the mother fucking fly with the ballistic pistol bayonet bitches!" he screamed as he threw his hands up in the air. "What do I mean by Ballistic you ask my dear fox? Check this out!"

He aided the fox into an aiming position towards one of the targets down the range. His mad cackles echo as he placed the fox's trigger finger over a small button over just under the slide of the weapon. "Press that button..."

The fox visibly hesitated before he heard the click sound which associated with the pressing of said button. The blade shoots out from the end of the pistol from it's resting spot and blazed straight through the target before Deadeye and finally came to a halt into the back wall of the range.

"TOUCHDOWN!!!!" screamed the Raccoon before mimicking the sounds of a wild crowd cheering for their home team. "And the crowd goes wild!"

The fox raised his brow in confusion once again, "The hell's wrong with you?"

The Raccoon stopped his shenanigans to give a courteous yet cartoony bow, "I am Professor Prozac, the toon coon at your service!"

"The toon coon?"

"That's our word, don't ever let me catch you using it again..." the Raccoon growled. "Now to test how accurate you can be with that..."

"I wanna test him myself..."

They both turned around to notice a rather muscular husky watching the two of them as he leaned upon the interior of the doorway. He wore a very similar outfit as the others, only being covered with a kevlar, military style vest decorated with several fragmentation grenades, and a knife holster upon his shoulder. At his side, the holster held a huge .45 magnum Colt Python. He pushed off the doorway and made his way towards the two slowly, with a smirk drawn across his muzzle.

"Who the hell are you?" the fox asked.

"Major Aaron Miles, but you can call me Warmonger if you like," he said as he pulled out the Python.

Without further word, the Huskey squared off his ready stance with the weapon, obviously being left handed and pulled the trigger. Almost instantly, a large hole was placed right between where the target's eyes would be. The husky replaced his gun and flicked his right ear in amusement. The husky gave a bemused laugh as he replaced the weapon to his hip holster.

"Let's see what you've Fox," Warmonger teased. "Let's see who's better, Army Rangers, or Russian Spetznaz."

The fox took a slow breath as he stepped up to the booth. It took a simple smooth pair of movements to slap the clip that was down on the table before him and quickly cocked the slide. His stance gave way he was right handed as he aimed down at a brand new target that was put up by Prozac. He continuously squeezed the trigger with little pause between shots. The gun barrel was smoking as the fox placed the gun down, leaving only one single bullet hole in the same spot the husky shot his own target.

Warmonger bursts into a wild burst of laughter. "Emptied an entire clip and only hit the target once!" he cackled loudly.

"Actually, that is not true Aaron," raised a synthesized voice. Hard Drive suddenly created a holographic version of himself between the two. "He technically would have hit the target with every single shot.

"Really?" Aaron asked in doubt, "how is that possible?"

"I was able to catch your contest on my high speed cameras down here. upon review of the footage, Deadeye has struck the target first in between the eyes for an instant kill, then continuously fired through the same hole with each remaining shot within the clip."

The instead of anger or jealousy, the husky seemed even more amused at this information as the fox pulls the clip from the bottom of the gun's handle. The husky's lips danced across his muzzle. "Finally someone who can give me a challenge..." he chuckled to himself. The Fox's brow surely got a workout with yet another raise. "Forgive me... I tend to be competitive and I haven't none of them I could compete with thanks to their special powers, but finally, someone who needs to use weapons like I do, it's invigorating."

"Back in Soviet Russia," the fox began, "We didn't have competitions or comparisons, it showed rifts within the ranks, all is one and one is all."

"Yes!" Professor Prozac finally chimed in using a mock russian accent, "And in Soviet Russia, it is the Fox that hunts you!"

Warmonger and Deadeye both stared at the Raccoon with a strange look on their faces. Warmonger shook his head ashamedly at him.

"Something's Really wrong with you Prozac..." he finally said after a while

"I know... my momma didn't love me so she accidently dropped me on my head on purpose!" the racoon replied with a reassuring smile and a soft nod. "By the way, might I enquire why you are here Warmonger? aren't you supposed to be a freeloader or something..."

"You mean freelancer?" Warmonger corrected.

"He's actually here to ask for our aid..." came a new voice from the door. Everyone turned to see Dr. Moreau at the door. "I figured I'd find both of you Warmonger and Deadeye. Warmonger has asked us for our assistance, and I believe we are obliged to aid him with him aiding us for so long."

"So... why would you be looking for Deadeye?" Prozac asked in one of his random moments of lucidity. "He's not a member of the team yet."

"No, which makes him the perfect candidate..." Dr. Moreau said.

Deadeye's ears perked at the comment. "What's the Job?"

"It's a foiling of an assassination attempt," Warmonger said. "I just got info from a reliable source that says that they're making an attempt on Aurora, the world renowned recording artist. Familiar with her?"

"I have been living in the Russian Countryside for most of my life. I've no intel on popular culture these days."

"Well what you need to know is she's also a major deterrent to the Mutanimal Registration Bill, one that's fully supported by her own father. I'm sure he had something to do with it."

"Why do you seem so invested in this mission?" the fox asked, noticing the husky's agitation.

"She's also my girlfriend, the only one who's been able to keep up with my... let's just say she's willing to stay with me." He said.

"Having a personal investment in the mission can be dangerous..."

"Having a personal investment makes ME dangerous..."

"And I guess you want me to go with Warmonger, right Dr. Moreau?"

The good doctor nodded softly, "You've no official affiliation with us and Frostbite gave her glowing recommendation that you're as field ready as you can possibly be. Mind this Deadeye, if you accept this mission, this would make you an official member of the team, and be taken as retaliation by GeneCorp."

The fox turned to the racoon and held the gun up. "Mind if I borrow this?"

"My good sir," Prozac began with another cartoonish bow, "If you're taking the mission the weapon is yours as far as I'm concerned."

The fox nodded and placed the weapon back on the counter where he found. "Mission is Accepted... When do we commence the operation?"

Warmonger gave a warm smile, possibly the most welcoming he's been since his introduction. "Op commences in a week, Next Friday at 2200 hours."

The fox nodded and looked to Moreau, "I'm gonna need a suit... something form fitting..."