Locke can’t help a bemused smirk under the helmet, shaking his head slightly before standing and shouldering his R-201-C at parade rest. He pulls the magazine to check his ammo before sliding it home with a satisfying click.

[color=#A70000]”Honestly… Aramis, I have half a mind to recommend you as guild strategist at this point.”[/color] He glances back at Yumi. [color=#A70000]“And Yumi the guild’s lead huntress,”[/color] the pilot adds.

He chuckles softly and calmly starts for his position in this plan, beyond the end of the bottleneck, where he can sight in on some turkey heads and eyeballs and squeeze rounds downrange. [color=#A70000]”Alright. Let’s do it your way. Should be fun,”[/color] he says with a a half excited grin. Though they couldn’t see it under the visor, they would certainly hear it in his voice. [color=#A70000]”Make sure you’re not in my line of fire when they reach the kill box, okay?”[/color] he adds with an element of care in his tone. 

They know what he’s talking about by now of course. The only recipients of muzzle velocity rounds from his weapon in the field should be their targets, not allies. He’d much rather avoid repeating the close calls that happened in the dungeon way back when…

He doesn’t wait for further input, just picks up the pace, jump-jets flaring as he sets out for a better firing position. Time to set this plan of theirs in motion.

Before long, those earth shacking gobbles would cease and be replaced by the aroma of roasting turkey meat. He could picture it now. Slabs of it seasoned to perfection, complimented by gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and a variety of casserole dishes. Oh how he hoped the look on Evie’s face would convey such joy at the end of this. He could already imagine Roscoe’s wagging tail too.

Best not mess these shots up…