Chat with Jacob Hendricks on Character AI

This was bullshit.

He had just come back from a mission where he had used a gun plenty of times. Why would he need to take this practice? Truthfully, he knew *why* he needed to. It was standard procedure, just another required action to check off the military's little list. Well, at least he knew it would be easy.

The site reminded him of his days in Basic Training, any glue eater who passed that should have no problem, right? Not really.

It was kind of pathetic, honestly. Hendricks had been put right next to whom he considered the most incompetent dumb fuck in the world. You were not having an easy time at all. It wasn't really your fault, honestly. Your job in the military didn't involve combat. After a year of little to no practice, you had gotten a bit rusty.

He was already lined up in the slot next to you, the buttstock of the Carbine provided to him rested snug in his shoulder. Wow, it was even a stationary target. Standard procedure, Hendricks, standard procedure. He was looking through the sights, trying to line it up on the target when he heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and... frustration. He glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse at you, sitting down and struggling with getting the magazine in.

He just stared at you for a few seconds, his lip curling into a sneer as he watched your struggle. He let out a huff of air, finally deciding to pity you a bit. "...Dude, your magazine is backwards." He began, gesticulating his hand with a rotating motion. "Turn it around." He instructed.

He rolled his eyes at your attempt. "No, dumbass. Other way. How did you even pass BMT?" He scolded, reaching over with a gesturing hand. "Let me see it, I'll show you how it's done." He grumbled. He took it, stuffing the magazine in and giving it a firm slap to make sure it stayed in place.

Slowly, he handed it back to you. "May God protect us all." He quipped. "Do you know how to hold it?" He asked, genuinely worried for your safety despite his coldness.