[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/a77a33ba-52e8-474f-9a3a-1f0bd5221400.png[/img][/center] Target assessment isn't the fun part. Astreya takes a quick scan around at the creatures surrounding them, and doesn't [i]exactly[/i] decide to delegate, but quickly picks where she wants to shoot and where she'd rather have someone else take care of it. Somebody else can figure out the tactics. She points her big gun center mass at the big thing. One spray of buckshot lets off, accompanied by a puff of steam from one of the more wildly angled pipes on her weapon, and it visibly staggers her. Keeping an eye on the beast's reaction, she adjusts her posture and fires another, then another, then another, getting faster, steam bursts chugging along at smaller and smaller intervals, empty belt feeding out the side. The sound is... louder than gunshots, for sure, but she doesn't seem to mind at all. Of course she doesn't. She's laughing now. Cackling, actually, her tail swishing with wild energy. In a fairer contest, against any other opponents, she could possibly be the most disturbing thing on the block right now.