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/k/ - Weapons

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>pick up a dragunov
>alarm goes off and I have to wake up
Millon lbs(pound) trigger pull
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>fudds going on about how you need 44 magnum to kill bear
>bullshit you can kill a bear with 9mm hardcast
>happens to be sleeping bear next to us
>go to mag dump with 92fs
>first shot doesn't kill it
>no big deal I've got a whole mag
>every subsequent round doesn't fire or jams
>racking the slide just sends bullets flying up out of the mag
>spend rest of the dream trying to avoid being mauled by a bear while fudds laugh at me
>wake up in a cold sweat
>The bullets, they do nothing!
I think this is evolutionary.
We've all had that dream where we're punching or shooting some adversary and the blows are doing zero damage. even though were using all our strength.
I think our body shuts down when we're asleep, probably some leftover mechanism from when we slept in uncomfortable positions on rock ledges or up in trees. Immobilizing itself kept the body from an heroing by falling from its sleeping perch.
This semi-immobilized state manifests itself in our dreams by making us feel like we're doing something at full speed while in reality we're just twitching like a dog dreaming about rabbits. Since we're /k/tards, it gets extended to our firearms.
>inb4 someone posts a scholarly paper about this exact phenomenon
>demonic entity shows up in dream ready to hurt or kill me
>I grab a weapon like a gun or a crowbar and get ready to bring a fuckton of pain to it
>demonic entity clearly didn't expect this and falters a bit
>wake up before I can bash its skull in

I've had dreams with this premise quite a lot recently. I blame lifting and lots of range time.
I get this but with chambering a round, recurring... some guy is after me and I have to chamber but its impossible to pull
My guns always work in my nightmares. Then I have to give police statements and go to trial for murder and the family of the bastard I shot is there screaming at me about how their poor boy didn't deserve to die.
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>Then I have to give police statements and go to trial for murder
This poor anon getting bureaucrat ganged in his own dream.
>appear in church
>there is this strange peaceful music but it makes me nervous
>suddenly unlimited amount of senile people and kids start coming out of the confessional
>they hivemind towards me trying to circle me and embrace me
>see pitchfork
>start stabbing them with pitchfork but its no use
>more and more kids and old people start piling on top of me until I see only darkness
>wake up naked on the floor with cold sweat
Its always the trigger pull being so hard it won't go off, or making the shot go wide because I have to use all my strength to get it to fire. Or causing me to lose a chance at a good shot because its a monster flying at me at the speed of fuck. Sometimes I wonder if I died that way in a past life because I have a birthmark that looks exactly like a gnarly gunshot wound.
I get this same issue in a recurring nightmare. Crackhead with a knife is getting closer and closer but my finger just won't pull the trigger. Not for lack of bloodlust; rather, my muscles have lost all function.
>I think our body shuts down when we're asleep, probably some leftover mechanism from when we slept in uncomfortable positions on rock ledges or up in trees. Immobilizing itself kept the body from an heroing by falling from its sleeping perch.
I roll around in my sleep, I'd have fallen off the branch
Don't worry, anon. We'll rustle up a couple of spare slings and lash you down so you can't roll off.
wonder what that could mean
>inb4 someone posts a scholarly paper about this exact phenomenon
anxiety dreams with scenarios of inadequacy are extremely common
here is a happy though for you
by the time you're having these about a particular situation, you are more than prepared for it
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>wake up
>psl54 is first thing I see

I was waiting for a thread like this since I had a related dream about a week or two ago. And it actually was a nice one.
At the beginning, I'd apparently taken a new job further north here in germany. For a moment I find myself at the window of some huge apartment building, then I'm back in my home village.
A friend whom I've known since elementary school (let's call him Mark) comes to me and has to show me something. We go up a hill next to the village, except it's a lot less steep and has a parking spot on it.
Standing on that sandy plateau is a tank, and from what I rmemeber it looked like a M3 Bradley except with a much longer gun in about 75mm caliber and a slim muzzle brake..
I'm of course very surprised. Apparently he'd acquired it as military surplus and it was fully functioning, it was a vehicle that was originally given to the Bundeswehr by the US armed forces.
As I go around the vehicle, I see coming up the hill (from another angle) my other oldest friend (lets call him Steve) with his family, out on a ride with their horses (not that they have those IRL either).
He and his little brother walk up to me, very impressed, and wanted to get in on the trip Mark has planned: to bring me the couple of hundred kilometres northwards to the new place I'll be moving to.
Then there's a bit of a downer moment, because I'd said I din't want to take any responsibilty if the police gave us trouble, which offended Mark a bit as he'd paid over 10.000€ to buy this tank so we could do this.
This moment was quickly forgotten, and I once again was walking around the tank. We're almost ready to go, I walk to the back of the tank. The hatch is open, folded down, it's half as wide as on a real Bradley.
Below it I read the designation of the vehicle: M30-A55-K1. On the very left side there's a smaller opening without a door. Behind it a toilet, currently occupied by some woman in her 40s. She's not part of our group, but of course we can't start as shes still sitting in there.
There's some bushes on the parking spot, and between them stand some old people looking at our vehicle with surprise and interest. Two or three women, but an old man is there too.
He's wearing his beige NVA (east germany, not vietnam) uniform (from his time in the military), complete with garrison cap. I talk to him, and while I can't remember now what exactly he said, he did express enthusiastic support for our mission.
I shake his hand and and we say goodbye. We're ready to go now, and I climb into the hatch to join my friends, who are all wearing random mismatched surplus stuff.
Now we're driving, and while initially (when I climbed in) the seats were to rows of three seats facing each other, the interior is now just like a car, with me on the passenger seat and Steve driving, and a big windscreen.
And so we go, driving over sandy fieldpaths, over paved country roads and through the streets of villages. At some point we were driving on a one-way road behind a burgundy red hatchback, and when we realized we were going the wrong way, we just turned on the spot and took another way offroad.
In that village we were driving through, we had to be careful as to not knock anything with the cannon, which was protruding quite a bit over the fronrt of the tank. Luckily this was a big windscreen, so we got a good look at everything in front of us.
At this point I sort of remember that this is indeed a tank. So I turn around and ask Mark if it has any optics to look around with. He says yes and pulls a binocular/periscope sight from the roof infront of him.
The rest of the inside roof was smooth and grey, like it would be in a car. No hatches to enter the turret or anything. Next to Mark is another friend I knew in highschool and whom I haven't seen since then, as well as one more person who might've been Steve's little brother. Sadly, at this point my alarm clock woke me up to get ready for work.

This dream was perhaps one of the best I've ever had. Even after I'd woken up, it felt like we truly had a mission, something important to do, that was much more than a simple drive to the north. An adventure like we've never had before.
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Maybe this
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>being attacked by rabid Tyrone
>shoot him to defend my life
>the bullets shoot out about 5 feet and then rapidly arc to the floor like marshmallows
>if any actually hit him, they do nothing or barely penetrate his clothing
I blame Hollywood movies and video games for this nightmare.
>having to use my whole hand just to pull an impossibly stiff trigger
>punches somehow do nothing
>car brakes that barely do anything
>having to run, but my lower body feels like its made out of lead and i can only crawl
/k/ dreams suck but even then, i prefer them to the horror that are /g/ related dreams
For me it's million pound gun I can't even pick up. I just have to stand there helplessly watching death descend.
Its true, it fucking sucks. I really don't want to shoot anyone, but I will if I have to, and that's always how it goes in my dreams.
Better to be tried by 12 than carried by six, fren.
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>mom found the ammo piss can
Literally me
Not necessarily a dream but on the night before I my gun was supposed to arrive at the LGS I couldn't sleep. I kept drifting between being half awake and dreaming about shooting the gun. It was so frustrating.
Had a dream that I had a tomboy gf who fitted miniature RPD furniture to a KP-9 and it looked fuckin sick.
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Dreamt of having some clownishly large diameter muzzle device, like one that matched the length of a surefire warden, but the girth of my quad rail, was kino as fucc.

Next few days I've been seeing all these pics of either spetsnaz or tarkov larpers with these FAT muzzle brakes / comps. Where can I cop something like that for my AR?
This only happened to me when I first started getting into guns, after years of shooting fairly regularly the guns usually work in my dreams now
>when you got shot and think „this can’t be Happening, this isn’t real“ so you wake up.
I finally had a dream where this didn't happen. I have determined it represents, psychologically, the reluctance to kill.
>outside inna backyard
>two attackers appear, have guns and threatening family
>sneak up to one from flank
>million pound trigger pull
>visualize aftermath, come to terms, pull trigger and dome him from about 5 feet
>other guy in the garage
>shoot him 4 times in the chest
>he's down, but lives
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Last night

>fighting giant tiddie monster woman
>double barrel fires but pellets are tiny like dust and do nothing
>use gun like a bat
>works gud
>I have determined it represents, psychologically, the reluctance to kill
Idk about that, I've had dreams million lb trigger pulls so I had to use a knife to brutally stab someone to death.
probably should have said that the determination was for me. for you it seems like it represents the fear of failure.
remember, everything in your dreams represents something, because it was that thing and not something else.
why did you have to fight her?
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>no matter how carefully you aim your bullets aren't hitting the target
being a noguns the only gun-related nightmare I've had was finding one, but being unable to operate it despite thinking I'd know how to.
>riding shotgun in car
>going down random street
>two people arguing on side of road
>aggressor is bulldyke lesbian
>she's chastising some teen girl with a fishing rod
>i see bulldyke reaching for waistband
>teen girl isn't reacting
>bulldyke pulls out purple ruger lcp
>brandishing at teen girl
>i tell driver to stop (idk who the fuck it is)
>driver gets out, pulls out glock and tells bulldyke to drop hers
>teen girl pulls out gun and points at driver and me
>start getting the "i'm gonna get shot" feeling
>wake up
>the horror that are /g/ related dreams
do tell, anon
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>driving a black mercedes on a highway, wearing a suit, tie, etc.
>qt blonde girl i knew in college is peacefully snoozing in the passenger seat
>she is also dressed well
>gently lay my hand on her knee to wake her
"its time"
>she reaches into her knee high boots and takes out an extended pistol mag while i hand her a glock 18 from inside my jacket
>she puts on a skimask, rolls her window down and dumps into a lincoln sedan's driver side windows
>car goes off road, loses control and rolls over
>dump evidence off a turnpike
"ah shit, we're running late."
>wake up

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