Dec 08 00:27:43 108 PA - Shooty Stuff

From Chronicles

Dec 08 00:27:43 108 PA.

PUBLIC FIRING RANGE

Bang. Bang. Bangbangbangbangbang. Since it's all snowin 'n blowin people shootin late are shootin inside. Even Bella. She's just gotta bitty pistol this time. After burnin up ten targets all at once with her flamey shooter somebody gave her a practice shooter fer free. Cause mosta the target weren' hers. Course now it's way harder ta hit just one. So she shoots lotsa more.

Gabriel enters the range from a small side booth. He's carrying a high-quality energy rifle of some kind, pulling a briefcase behind him, along with a small bag. It's tough to miss an amateur using blowing energy around from a practice weapon, and after paying his range dues, he slides into an opening near to Bella. Near, not next to. Even practice flamey shooters can be deadly. "Evening!" He shoves his briefcase beneath the small overhang on which people rest weapons when not in use.

Bangbangbangbangbangclick. Clickclick. Oh. Yeah. Clickin means it's empty. Bella's still learnin. "Huh?" She looks over. "Oh. Hiya. Out fer shootin stuff?"

Gabriel smirks, and *carefully* sets his rifle on the semi-carpeted surface. He gets up and walks over to Bella's booth, holding out his hand to reach for the practice pistol. "Yup, out shooting stuff. May I?"

Bella shrugs. "Sure. Thinkin it's outta shooty stuff thought." She hands it over to him. "Don' wanna shoot the ones ya got?'

"Who says I'm not the owner?" Gabriel says with a smile, assuming that his friend is referring to the other rifle. "Though it is a nice piece of technology that I'd love to own." He has no problem popping out the spent practice magazine. Picking up another one, he turns the pistol so that its muzzle is pointed in a safe direction, and demonstrates how to insert and connect a modern energy clip. A simple problem of knowing which way is front, how hard to push it inward, and which latch to switch. "You need to learn how to do this. Unless you want to go into battle like a pirate, with six loaded pistols, you need to know how to reload, or else - you'll run out of shooty stuff."

Bella shrugs s'more. "Never messed with guns lots. Not 'fore. Not really much now." She smirks. "Course it's pretty fun burnin 'r blowin 'r shootin stuff up."

Gabriel remains where he is for now. "First rule. Even if you think that you're out of shooty stuff, never, *ever* point the muzzle - that's the dangerous end - at anything that you don't want to kill. Right now?" The soldier taps the little weapon as he hands it back, "It's loaded and ready to kill. So point it that way." A finger indicates very clearly, downrange.

"Ok." Bella smirks. "So. Only point't atta guy helpin me if I wanna shoot 'im right?" She takes the gun back. Points it down atta targets.

Smirk. "No, only point it at things you don't want to shoot. Pointing it at things that you do want to kill or destroy should be something that you actually have to think about doing," Gabriel says. "Of course, with time - like, decades - it will become second nature. But for now, make sure that you take time to think about it."

Bella figgers she oughtta be lookin where she's pointin. See? She's gettin better. So she turns to look atta target. Points the gun at it. Hits the li'l shoot button. "Decades? That's like ferever. Ain't thinkin they're gonna lemme stay here that long." She shoots again. A coupla times.

Hitting the little shoot button is fun, but the reason that the target was never struck, and the gun never actually fired becomes obvious when Gabriel reaches over and teaches once more, "Just to be sure that amateurs don't accidentally kill people, gunsmiths invented the safety. Flick it upward with your thumb to release it. Now you can shoot." He stands back a short distance to give Bella room, then comments. "Decades? It's not forever. It's really quite short. My grandparents in the Old Country lived to be twice as old as I am right now." He smiles and says softly, "You've still never told me exactly how old I should treat you." Then watches out for a pistol to be aimed in his direction by mistake. Or hopefully only by mistake.

Bella knows which end shoots stuff. And it does. After she flicks the thing he's talkin bout. Then she can shoot holes inna target. Ok. Holes inna walls all 'round the target. Wait. One hit! Too bad it weren' the one she's tryina hit. Still counts though. "Gotcha!" She turns to Gabe. Grinnin. And pointin the thing down round his feet. "See that? 'N I ain't that old. Yer still way older 'n me."

"Good to know," Gabriel says with a smile, then, "Yeah, you got it! But I think you should trade in the pistol for a Tommy gun. You're firing like it anyhow, might as well make it official!" He pats Bella's shoulder softly. "One of these days, you should ask someone to show you how to shoot that thing."

"More stuff ya shoot more ya hit right?" That's Bella's big idea on guns. She turns back. Shootsa a bunch more times. Like til it's empty again. "Can do that too. I guess." She shrugs and turns back to him.

Gabriel picks up another magazine - a full one - and holds it out. "Try to reload. But no, you don't want to just randomly fire. It wastes ammunition, it puts friendlies in danger, and it's like a bright shining light on yourself that says, 'target here'!"

Bella smirks. Takes the magazine. After lookin't't 'n the gun she gets it shoved in. Onna third try. Then flicks the safety thing a coupla times. Justa make sure. And she's shootin 'gain. "Figger they're gonna be shootin at me anyways. Ain't nothin ta worry bout most times."

"Sure, most times," Gabriel says. He then quickly adds, "But what if it's any angry hunter with a Tommy gun loaded with silver rounds, or a pump-action twelve-gauge loaded with silver buckshot? And these guys know how to point it in one direction?" Gabriel arches a brow and nods back toward the rifle that he'd brought out. "Better to hide and never be found - no matter how invincible a person may be. Or thinks that he may be."

LATER, AT TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

The weather hasn't gotten any better since leaving the firing range thirty minutes ago. Gabriel left carrying a briefcase after having returned to a small room where the rifle was apparently left. It's just now beginning to mist enough to make the ground wet, and the overcast sky is becoming more ominous. Gabriel steps into Tradewinds with a smile and a sigh, holding the door open behind him. Sure, it lets in some cold wind, but it's the polite thing to do when a friend is tagging along.

Tag. Bella's it. The one taggin. She walks in the open door. Smirks at Gabe. "Wow. Ya make a pretty good doorstop."

At a far table, his back to the wall with a good eye on the door, Sebastien might be found. One boot rests on the chair nearest him, spur swaying in air and knee high, while the other heel is hooked into the earth to keep him in a faint slouch. The brim of his hat is low, revealing a tense mouth marred by a scar on the upper lip. When the pair enter the brim lifts, two pale blue eyes seeking them out as Sebastien's lips twitch in a smile. A cup rests before him, and two hands of twenty-one. He deals again and again, his hand and that of the dealer, occasionally lifting the brew to sip and consider. One thing's certain; being the only one playing, he's likely to be winning.

"And you, my dear, make a great door mat. Go on. Order something nice for yourself. I'm buying. Again." Smirk. Gabriel holds the door open only long enough for Bella to enter, or until the other customers get tired of the chill air, whichever is sooner. It takes his own eyes a moment to notice anyone else in the shop by specifics. Sure, people here and there. A guy he knows playing with himself in public. Basically Kingsdale as usual. An upward chip of his chin is offered in Sebastien's direction, but he is otherwise busy with the door.

"Real funny." Bella smirks more. But not back at Gabe. She goes up ta the counter. Looks atta stuff. Orders up hot chocolate. Maybe she figgers Tiffany ain' gonna mess that up. 'R she wanna see how she does. Then she spots Seb sittin in 'is corner. Heads thattaways. Takes justa second ta look't what he's doin. "So. How bad ya losin?"

Sebastien's fingers whip back and forth, dealing up another hand, and he frowns as he cards hit the table. His boot on the chair slides it across so that Bella might sit, allowing him to straighten a touch as he says, "See for yourself." The deck is laid on the table then, Bella's cards up and only one of his own. He smirks at that, the brim of his hat rising to watch her steadily.

Gabriel follows Bella in after taking a moment to make sure that the door is closed solidly. Some people leave doors open, inviting nasty breezes for those inside, and he doesn't want to be one of those people. "Mama nie zatwierdzi," he says under his breath. Sebastien finally receives a genuine wave, but the shop's invader is kept up at the counter for a bit with the confusing order of, "Hi, Tiffany. Mint mocha, please."

Bella shrugs 'n drops her butt inna chair. Since he shoved it out 'n all. "Ain' doin so bad I guess." She's got more. But she's got more showin too. Bella points atta deck. "So. Guess't's all on whatcher hidin in there."

Finally, Gabriel is able to grab his briefcase and head over toward the table where his friends are seated over what could at some point in the future become a card game. With mint mocha in hand, he slides above Bella to see what her cards are - and if they've moved onto something other than solitaire blackjack. "If she plays cards as well as she shoots, you should bet big, Sebastien." The words echo out of his larynx in an amused Kentucky drawl.

The wave gains a bemused look from Sebastien, who waggles a finger over Bella's cards. His grin is broadening, though he bides his time. Her queen-five is unlikely to beat the eight and whatever he has hidden. There's a pause, as if Sebastien were holding his breath, as he just watches Bella. Watching and waiting.

"Gimme 'nother one." Bella taps the table. Case he dunno what she's talkin bout. "How long ya been 'ere playin with yerself? 'N won'tcha go blind 'r somethin doin that so much?" She looks up 'n back ta eye Gabe. Now she's smirking back at him. "He's gotta have somethin I wanna get 'fore he can bet nothin."

The knight lowers his chin, the hat's brim covering his face. The amusement in his voice comes through clear as day, though, as he says, "That's not how you play. Say the words." Ah, yes. How he's been waiting for this.

Gabriel's face clearly says that he can imagine any number of different and applicable phrases that may fit here, but remains quiet as he takes a third seat, this one next to Bella. "Montenegro, this is not," he notes to himself.

Bella looks back at Seb. Eyes him. Still smirkin. "Hit me." Waits justa bit. "'N I'm gonna hit ya back." She eyes him harder. Gotta wonder what he's up to. What he's wantin.

Sebastien chuckles softly, doling out a card to Bella. "Little Bella," he chides. "How little you know me. You're unarmed. I have a Code." He raises the brim of his cap, giving Bella the probable tying card. He raises a finger, and pantomimes tucking it into his belt. "But I'm keeping that order for later."

"Oh. I was going to tell you to 'slip her a big one,' Sebastien," Gabriel says flatly before he begins to blow across his beverage, creating little ripples as he goes. Apparently Bella's demand just didn't ring in his ears as amusing as it could have. He then mumbles something about something making the best targets. Otherwise, he just watches.

Bella can't help it. She laughs some. Who at? Who knows? Maybe both. "That'sa good one." Then she points at Gabe. Shakes her head at Seb. "Weren' no order. Was bossin people 'round ya'd know it. Don' do it so much though."

"Gabriel," Sebastien speaks flatly, staring at Bella. "You yanked back on the chain, you called back the hounds. Why?" He doesn't take his eyes off of the petite femme for an instant, one finger idly tapping his uncovered card. Those blues narrow a touch, meeting Bella's gaze with impunity.

"Timing was wrong," Gabriel says honestly. "A player came to light that I hadn't accounted for, made the existing plan untenable." He blows on his beverage, then sips at it. "Not bad." Tiffany even receives a lifted mug-salute.

"'Member the rules." Bella's eyein Seb again. Smirkin again too. "Gotta ask fer it. The right way." She don't wanna be cheatin right? Ain't gonna let 'im off easy neither. She nods at what Gabe said. "Sucks when ya get some asshole poppin up't facks shit up."

Sebastien speaks again, finger just tapping at his face-down card. "We cannot wait long, Gabriel. By now, she must suspect something. Every day allows her to draw up her defenses." He raises his eyebrows at Bella then, and smiles. "Oh, that rule does not apply to the dealer, cherie." Though he hasn't yet flipped his card.

Gabriel smiles and nods. "Yes, I know. But I'd rather hit strong defenses well prepared than weaker defenses with my own dangerous weakness. Better to fight with a completely forged sword, right? A strong sword might be blunted by a strong shield, but a weak sword might shatter against a weak shield." He sips from his coffee some more, then raises an eyebrow and asks, "Why, have you gotten word of her inviting an attack or something? We all hear things the others don't."

Bella gets curious now too. Ok. After snorting at him thinkin the dealer don' get hit. Guess he never played poker in Moe's. She don't say nothin though. Just perks up her brows at Seb. Gabe said 'nuff stuff fer like four people anyways.

Sebastien replies with a smirk. "It's hard to say." His eyes finally break from Bella, meeting Gabriel's as his eyebrows twitch up. "When the time comes, do call. I'll see you home." He nods at that, and rises from his seat. Spurs jangling, he fishes out a few credits to cover his drinks and makes for the door.

The older fellow offers Sebastien some words before asking, "Hey, if you hear anything strange, gimme a call, okay? Bella, you taking off?" Gabriel swirls his mint mocha and waits to see what happens.

"Yeah. Tell us if ya hear somethin." Bella watches Seb get up. Then she's done 'n shrugs at Gabe. "Dunno. Any good't cards? Got somethin fancy 'r 'xciting up yer sleeve?" She ain't touched her chocolate.

Gabriel takes the time to watch and ensure that Sebastien is out the door and into the night before reaching over to flip over the card. "Heh, deuce. House ten, player nineteen. Knew he'd try to bluff - he was too sure of himself about it." He sips, then shakes his head. "I play poker and baccarat. High-stakes. Natasha was the blackjack genius. She was so much smarter than me; counted cards, basically never lost. Incredible." Then a grin. "Up my sleeve? C'mon, you should know me." What does that mean? Who knows. "How about you, play any cards? By the way, you're getting looks, enjoy some chocolate, would ya?"

Bella picks up her cup. Takes a li'l sip. "Figgered. He's all fulla hot air 'n bullshit." She nods. "Li'l bit. Poker mostly. Witha kinda people't got knives 'r guns up theirs. Ain't hidin cards ya gotta worry bout."

There's a small chuckle, and Gabriel opines, "I can't say that I'm surprised by that. When I played, it was in a tuxedo, around a nice marble table topped with green velvet and a dealer who goes through elaborate lengths to demonstrate that the house is not rigged or cheating. Lots of fun. Made for a good second honeymoon." He drinks a long pull before explaining, "We did have a second honeymoon, but only because I was almost killed on the first one."

"Least it was almost?" Bella smirks. "'N ya gotta 'nother one. Ain't so bad. More'n lotsa people get I betcha."

"True. But it was unnecessary, and neither was it truly what anyone would consider a honeymoon, either," Gabriel says, pointing to his slightly smaller friend. "The first honeymoon? Escaping from the Soviet Union via Bulgaria, Romania and Turkey - shot by an SOE turncoat in the middle of the Med, made it to Monaco and survived. The second honeymoon? Paris. Big stakes to flush out a spy and... well, he didn't go home." Shrug. Sip.

Bella snickers. "Sounds 'xcitin. Don' gotta worry bout borin stuff 'round ya huh?" Then she thumbs atta door. "'R him neither. Whatever she done ta him he's stilla big asshole."

"I hope I'm not a big asshole," Gabriel chuckles to his friend. "Right now though, I seem to be going from boring to exciting and back again. Personally, at this point in my life - when I first got here, I thought I just wanted to live out my life in the forest like a reclusive hermit. Then I wanted to take the fight to the bad guys. Now?" He turns in his chair so that he's bodily addressing Bella. "I'm going to try to get the people at Hope for Humanity to take me on as a leader. They need someone who knows how to operate a large group - even a charity - before someone evil but with a silver tongue moves in to take over and use them in bad ways."

That's a surprise. Bella perks up. "Really? Wow." She dunnoa whatta say. Then she's gotta ask. "Ain' that kinda dang'rous? Seein 's the last leader kinda got nabbed." Bella points a finger at 'im. "'R ya lookin ta be the next big hero martyr person 'r somethin?"

Gabriel finishes off his mint mocha and says, "Well, Stacy was nabbed because she got blinded by emotion. Her boyfriend was captured, killed, then killed a second time my her own hand. So.. she ran off to confront something that takes many people to put down. I have no attachments in this city beyond friendships, and frankly?" He shrugs and blushes a little. "There aren't any of them that I wouldn't sacrifice for the common good. Kill one, save a thousand. Emotions are always problems. But I should be getting home before the trail gets too snowed in." He smiles, then makes for home.