xmutanthigh | [open log] at the shooting range

Entry tags:

[open log] at the shooting range

Characters: Kevin (Iris) plus anybody else
Setting: A lower level of the Danger Room
Content: Training time
Status: Open and incomplete.
Thread-jacking: Hooray

Crack!

[Kevin's got his cheek pressed up against the .22 long rifle he borrowed from the school's armory. He's on the lower level of the Danger Room, which is where the architects decided to tuck away the indoor range to suppress as much of the gunfire as possible. Still, the shots can still be heard as soft little paf! paf!s on ground level. Here, inside the range, Kevin has his ears protected with heavily padded earmuffs and, as he takes aim, idly wonders if anyone will hear the noise and come join him. The indoor range doesn't get much use -- most students prefer to practice with their powers up on the main level. The Danger Room provides a lot of options for things to aim at. Cyclops used to use the range for target practice, but Kevin's really the only one these days who likes it; as pretty much the only person who doesn't find using his mutant powers fun there's not much of a wait to use the shooting range.

Ali's got those polarizing eyes so she can look at direct light, he thinks. Wonder if she can handle this kind of noise okay, too.

The thought crosses his mind as he switches from the rifle to a .45 pistol - the loudest gun he has. Without proper protection, it packs a punch loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage after only a few shots -- but maybe not to someone with as unusual power as the Dazzler.

The bullet tears a hole into the paper target Kevin's set up. How fast were Julian's telekinetic reflexes? Fast enough to stop a bullet? Certainly not Jono's. Nope -- the big oaf would be dead.

Kevin sighs as he tears a few more holes into the paper. Well. Gotta practice somehow, I guess.]

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[Did somebody ask for the Dazzler? Probably not, but she's here anyway, sauntering across the simulated shooting range. Truth be told, she's not a big fan of guns. Explosions, yes, she's had a beaten up copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook since she was sixteen, but popping off a cartridge?

She offers Kevin her standard shit-eating grin as she taps her unprotected ear with a finger, indicating he should remove his protective headwear.]

If those things really keep the racket out, you should start wearing them when you try to sing. Better yet, get me a pair. Call it a birthday present...

[Kevin turns his head and casts Ali an expression of pure "how dare you". Then he slips on the safety on the pistol and puts it into the cradle on the stand so he can give Ali his full indignation.]

It's punk rock! Nobody can sing in punk rock!

I can sing, ingrate! [She sticks out her tongue at his ire, both immune and indignant to his little tirades.] So can Jono. Hell, I've even heard Logan carry a tune. You... [She shrugs, grabbing for him to give him a friendly jostle, ever defiant of Kevin's strict NO TOUCHING rule.] It's a good thing you're cute 'cuz you can't sing worth a damn.

[Kevin frowns, pointedly ignoring her "cute" remark, and then points Ali over to the wall.]

Eyes and ears, Ali. Put 'em on. If you're gonna stay here, that is. [He waves her over again to the supply of goggles and earmuffs.]

Oh come on, you know I don't need those! [Ali frowns, glancing at the wall in question.] My eyes and ears are flawlessly mutated so I don't ever have to wear horrible shit like that.

[Kevin raises an eyebrow and gives her a sly grin.]

Really? Even if a stray bullet casing comes flying out of the gun and hits you in the eye? Put on the goggles!

Might earn me a promotion. [she shrugs, still unhappy about it, and goes to fetch some goggles, putting them on as she comes to flank him.] Whatsisname, the S.H.I.E.L.D. guy, comes by for Top Secret Meetings with Logan. He's got an eyepatch, bet that's what got him that gig.

[Kevin brightens a bit, and laughs at Ali's joke.] Haha, yeah -- that guy!

[And just like that, he's mostly done scowling.]

Still, not on my watch. [He nods approvingly at Ali's goggles, but then taps his earmuffs.] So, you're good to go? [He shrugs. He doesn't know how this all works for her.]

I was actually just wondering about that.

Well, thanks for that, Kev. [Ali smiles, always pleased when she wins against Kevin's scowl. She keeps a private tally in her head of the score; if she's winning, it's not by much.] Fire away.

[She waits for him to finish his clip, it's loud, but hardly unbearable, and unlike her, he won't be able to hear her over the noise.] Wondering about what?

[Kevin lowers the gun and then flips the safety back on.]

Oh... I meant about whether you were sound-protected like you are light-protected. Can't be dazzled by your own lights and all.

[He pauses, they stare at each other for a beat, and then burst into one line of --]

Bliiinded by the li-iight!

Oh, that. [Ali opens her mouth to explain, but the corners of her mouth turn up instead to form a beaming smile. Throwing up a hand, she uses the high decibel gunshots from only moments before to provide Kevin with a momentary light show to accompany his burst of song, laughing at his terrible rendition.]

Far as I've been able to tell it works like this: I hear a sound, I convert it, store it, save it for a rainy day. Basics. I can't convert and store every sound I hear--and god, who would want to with some of the crap that's out there--so most of the time I let stuff slide off the surface. [She shrugs, thumbing at his gun.] If something's too loud, then I pick up the juice, absorb just enough that my eardrums don't rupture and I can still hear it when I'm whistlin' dixie.

[Kevin gives her a smirk.]

Sounds more fun than what I do.

[He then kneels down to grab his bag and starts loading up another magazine for Ali.]

So -- you sure you're not gonna hurt yourself? And, if so, you wanna try one? [He holds up the magazine.]

Sure. [She shrugs, taking the piece and the clip and sliding it home.] I mean, not sure sure, but any noise your little toy can bring, I can handle.

Anyway, you shouldn't be down on what you do, Kev. You know what that Parker kid's always on about, great power, great responsibility. [She closes one eye and aims, steadying her hand, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. She gives him a quick glance, fingering the trigger.] You've just got more of both than the rest of us.

[She closes her eyes, squeezes the trigger, and empties the magazine.]

Oh. [Kevin shifts uncomfortably.] I don't think that Parker kid likes me very much. [He snorts in derision.

Then he straightens a little bit and peers at the target once Ali's finished.]

Hey, nice grouping. [He points at the cluster of holes all in the same general area on the target.]

[Bobby strolls in during the brief period of quiet. He heard the noise and, with nothing to do, thought he might see who was down here.]

Hey. Imagining anyone in particular that time?

[Ali smirks, opening her eyes again and glancing over her shoulder at the familiar face.] Only you, Vanilla.

[He returns her smirk with one of his one.] You're just sore because I beat you that one time at the skate rink.

You so did not beat me! [This is a lie: he so did, but Ali's not much of one for a graceful defeat. This may or may not be due to the influence of one Julian Keller, with whom she spends a hefty chunk of her time...]

You don't think anyone likes you. [She smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder as he examines her target.] I think you like it that way.

[She beams at the compliment, surveying her handiwork.] You think?

[Kevin, still uncomfortable with the heartfelt touchy-feely, and even more uncomfortable with Ali's so blatant ignoring of his actual NO TOUCHING rule, shifts and then shuffles away.]

Yeah, sure. You want to try to the rifle next?

[Then Kevin glances over to the doorway, where someone else has joined in.]

Hey, Bobs, you hear the shots from up there?

How could I not? [He grabs a pair of goggles and puts them on, and a pair of earmuffs as well, though he just hangs onto them.] Thought I'd come down and see what kind of damage you guys are doing.

Ummm, just paper damage, so far. [Kevin pushes the button on the side of the wall, retrieving the target from down the range. It comes sliding back towards the three of them with a zzzzzzzzzzip!]

This one's all torn up now. New target!

[Kevin reaches back into the same bag and unrolls a large piece of paper with several bullseyes printed on it. He attaches it back to the clip on the slider, and then zips it back down the range.]

Have you shot one of these before, Bobby? I mean, they have all this stuff in the armory, but nobody ever really does this kind of weapons training here anymore. [He shrugs. It's all mostly powers training, and drills with the Danger Room. Kevin knows he's pretty alone in a lot of aspects, and this is just another one of the ways his powers have alienated him.]

[Bobby shrugs.] Not really. Scott used to get me doing target practice down here a lot when I first got here, but with my own projectiles.

Well, I'll show you. [Kevin brightens a bit, being a bit eager to be able to share this side of his training with someone. He motions for Bobby to come stand next to him in the lane.]

Got your eyes and ears? Okay, good. First off, just... common sense stuff. Don't look down the barrel of anything, don't ever point the thing anywhere but down the lane, keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot, blah blah blah. [Kevin shows Bobby how to load the magazine, and where the safety and slide release are.]

And... you're good to go! [He steps back so Bobby can take his shots with the pistol.]

[The sound is a little deafening even with the earmuffs on. Bobby's shots are sloppy, unused as he is to this kind of weapon. He empties the magazine and inspects his woeful attempts with a rueful smile.]

It'll take a lot of practice before I'm as good with this as I am with ice.

[To demonstrate, Bobby makes a flicking motion with his wrist towards the target. A small, sharp shard of ice shoots from his fingertips and slices right through the paper bullseye.]

[Kevin grins at the perfect shot with ice.]

You really don't need anything else though, huh? You've really got that ice projectiles thing down.

[Kevin reaches down and picks up the .22 long rifle. He shows Bobby how to load and hold this one.]

This one's fun. It sounds like a toy compared to the others.

Yeah, it's good for when the arsenal's not handy. Which is all the time.

[He's improving a little - this time his shots get closer to the bullseye, at least.] Hm. Getting better.

[He looks over at Ali, holds the gun out to her.] Had a go with this one, Ali?

[Kevin looks at the target thoughtfully, letting Bobby's words linger just a little bit. On the contrary, he'd had quite an arsenal at his disposal with the Brotherhood - where he'd become a much better shot, with partial thanks to one of the many Jamies. He used to call that one Rifle Jamie. That particular Madrox was fairly handy with a pistol, too, but his favorite was the .22 rifle.

Kevin had never admitted it out loud, but there had been some fun times there, too. And even if not all of the sharpshooting practice was fun, it was liberating in a way, too. Here at the school, the staff usually had just shoved him into close-combat before realizing long-distance attacks were what he was comfortable with.

Now, Danger Room sessions were finally getting a little more comfortable. But this was nice, too. Just a small, more private practice session without too many people around.

He finally comes out of his blah-blah introspection and even bothers to crack a little smile at Bobby.]

You're such a perfectionist. Don't worry, man... it's just like anything else. Just takes practice.

Nah, man. [Ali holds up a hand and shakes her head. She knows better than to test her luck again; her aim is hit or miss at best with artillery. She deciles with her regular bravado, though.] I don't wanna make you guys feel bad. [She looks around for somewhere to sit before shrugging and plopping down on the ground with her legs stretched out in front of her to watch, careful not to be in either of the boys' way.] Besides, guns aren't my thing.

[Bobby flashes a small smile at Kevin.] Can't help it, man.

[The smile fades a little at Ali's last comment.] Can't say they've ever really been my thing, either. The Professor was never big on them. He preferred us to focus on defensive tactics. But I guess the way things are these days, it's hard to draw that kind of line.

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[open log] at the shooting range

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what a fatty tag this became

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