Olle stood away from the group and admired her comrades. The room was always filled with noise. A voice drifted from a TV situated in one of the corners that they called 'The Blind' since it was a place to go and catch downtime or to wait on a stand to become available. In front of it was a digital camo rug and small table with hunting, gun, survivalist, nature magazines, and also military manuals stacked on top neatly. And around it blind chairs filled with teens of various ranks watching some shooting competition.

 One of the walls housed the shooting range. It was rather small with only five stands but it's variety of targets insured no boredom. Steel gongs, reactives, spinners, gel, self-healing and dueling trees were just a few. The only one Olle could think of that wasn't available was any exploding ones. But come on. That was a rather large safety hazard. The only one that didn't have targets was the fifth stand which was dedicated solely to apple shooting and the usage of humans. A large bang erupted as someone shot a Ruger American at a gel human with a bow slung over them - only to be replaced with a pale clink as the discarded round hit the floor. 

 The corner opposite of The Blind was were the club had meetings or instructors (Which were just high ranked club members) that gave 'classes' about things thought useful for the Ballistic Club as a whole. A podium and a small stage was at the very front whilst chairs in rows of ten were in front of it. It seemed as if Sergeant Hildr was giving a course about fast disarming techniques. 

 And dividing The Blind and meeting space? A heavy-duty steel barred door with the word 'ARMORY' painted crudely above it. Most of the weapons and gear behind the doors were used strictly for milsim activities.

 After a while Olle couldn't help but to frown behind her respirator, lucky that no one was able to see. The Ballistics Club required tons of points to run. Targets always needed to be replaced, the armory always stocked, and improved gear always offered. Losing her train of though she looked over the numerous posters plastered on the wall of gun safety and patents, military posters, and also posters with the classic question:

"Why does the Archery Club hate us?"