exsiliumlogs | [open] funny how fast things change

Entry tags:

[open] funny how fast things change

Date & Time: April 18, morning/afternoon
Location: The Hold, the police station
Characters: Saul & you!
Summary: It's not laser tag, but at least he gets to shoot something. Pissed off as Saul may be, he knows he has to go get Jesse's records. First, though, he's going to blow off some steam and finally get acquainted with his weapon.
Warnings: n/a at the moment.

[Early morning finds Saul, surprisingly enough, in the Hold.

He doesn't like this place.

Then again, that can be said about this whole place, not just the Hold.

Anyway, there he is, down in one of the training rooms with his weapon and a box of cartridges that look just like the ones his weapon is meant to use but aren't quite. They're not electrified, these cartridges — he doesn't see the point in firing those at a training dummy. It'd be a waste.

And because someone made the mistake of telling him this thing is supposed to be sentient, he's talking to it.

The dummy he's been firing at has few cartridges sticking out of its torso. The rest? Stuck to the wall behind it.]

Come on, you piece of junk. Be sentient, or whatever. Aim yourself. God damn —

[He aims, fires off another round. This one winds up jammed at an awkward angle in the floor.]

Son of a bitch!

[Here's the thing: he doesn't know how to fire a gun like this. He also started the day off mad — actually, he hasn't stopped being mad since he talked to Lisbeth — and he's just getting madder. Mad enough that he almost flings his weapon across the room, but stops himself before he lets go, so all he really manages to do is tweak a muscle in his arm.]

*

[Luckily, being angry takes a lot of energy, so by the time he finishes off the box of rounds and changes into a suit (a suit that's in dire need of tailoring and a splash or two of color, but beggars can't be choosers) for his field trip to the police station, he's much more subdued.

Still mad, though.

He has no idea what he's going to come up against, once he gets there. What he'll find out, what will change as a consequence of him finding out, yadda yadda, blah blah, shit sucks. And while it's true that he wanted the chance to do his job again, he wasn't really hoping for this.

After pacing on the steps of the station for a solid three minutes full of fidgeting with his briefcase and tie, he passes through the door and assumes as cool an exterior as any, then strides up to the front desk.

And smiles.]

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_{( He catches the glare and quirks a brow, almost a dare. )}

Or maybe she's just got nothin' ta say.

Always that possibility.

Maybe.

[Uh-oh.

Someone's not in the mood.]

You know how to use one of these?

_{( A shrug, noncommittal. )}

Sure. Never really been my style, though.

[Saul almost rolls his eyes. Of course. Of course this guy would have a "style."

Ugh.]

Then I guess you're not going to offer me any pointers.

I could.

_{( Dips his head. And then looks back at Saul, questioningly. )}

You picked it up without knowin' what ta do with it?

It was this or any number of other things I wouldn't know what to do with.

[And this is cool, okay?

Frustrating, but cool.]

Shame, that.

_{( Pfft, conventional weapons. Who needs those? )}

Aimin' is a good place ta start.

Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that I don't come from a world where people have red eyes and do God knows whatever it is that requires you to know oh so much about weapons.

[...actually, red eyes thing aside, Saul's world is kind of like that.

He just never had to do it himself.]

Is this right?

[He lifts the gun and aims at the dummy. He's holding it a little high.]

_{( He lifts both his brows, this time. )}

What makes you think that, where I'm from, this is normal?

_{( He sounds properly insulted. Much of his confidence--his swagger, dare I say it--derives from that.

Instead of voicing a correction, Remy just pushes the barely of the gun down, lightly. )}

It's all 'bout linin' it up right. Your line a' sight, your position, your goal--one line.

What makes me think that? Look at you. Those eyes, wearing a trench coat indoors — sorry, but that shit just screams weird to me. I've met more superheroes and magical whatevers in my three weeks here than I think I've ever been exposed to back home, so hey, I apologize for making a generalization, but it's more of a gut feeling than anything. And my gut feelings are generally correct.

[He adjusts when Remy moves the weapon, then attempts to line up another shot.]

But please, tell me if I'm wrong.

[Speaking of things that are on target, this shot is a little better — it gets the dummy in the chest.]

Y'know, if you keep holdin' in those feelings, you're liable ta explode.

_{( Utterly unphased, Remy keeps going: )} An' maybe it's weird for us when people show up who've never heard a' those things. Stuff happens, homme, when you're smashin' universes together.

Maybe you'll feel a little safer when you can make the shots you want, eh?

[And Saul just glowers.

So Remy's got a point, so what. So maybe he's right when he implies that Saul doesn't feel safe. Why the hell should he? In a place like this, how can anyone feel safe?

Explode. Pfft. Big deal. Won't all the king's horses and all the king's men come riding in if that happens?]

Yeah. Maybe. What's that — French?

A' some sort, oui. _{( He's turning back to look at the dummy, as though gauging the distance. He smiles to himself, some kind of private joke. )}

I'm from N'awlins. They got a Louisiana, in your borin' world?

Yup. We got all the other fifty-three states, too.

[What's up, curve ball?]

Ah. Maybe not so borin', then.

_{( He grins, nonplussed. )}

[Damn it, sir. You're no fun.]

I'm a criminal defense attorney in a high-traffic drug zone. My life was plenty interesting before the Powers That Be or whoever the hell decided I should bring my talents here.

_{( Rude! He is tons of fun! )}

We got lots a' criminals. Maybe you're more useful than y'think.

Oh, I know.

[He knows.

ಠ_ಠ...]

And what do you do?

_{( He laughs, at that. What a loaded question. )}

D'pends what you mean. Family business is one thing, current pursuits are kinda another.

You have family here?

[Saul's taking family business as, you know, the family business.

Maybe this guy's a gangster.

That might explain... something...]

_{( He knows exactly what Saul's thinking--or he can guess--and he finds it only too amusing. The Thieves Guild could be considered a gang, and the news thought the X-men were one, too. )}

Non. Not that lucky.

Ah.

[And he's back to square one on the guessing board.

Attempt #2.]

Okay, current pursuits. What you do to pass the time here, aside from popping in to taunt people while they're training. Qu'est que c'est?

[Maybe this guy will be more cooperative in another language!]

The tauntin' is mostly where I have my fun.

_{( He doesn't comment on the French, though he finds it particularly hilarious. )}

I dunno, homme, what d'you do? Do you have as many clients here as y'would back home?

I'm in kinda a tough spot. Can you be a teacher w'out students, or a thief without things ta steal? Or a hero, without people ta save?

No. I have one.

[Saul arches an eyebrow, noting Remy's word choice. He doesn't look like a teacher or a hero, but that's not really a fair judgment, is it?

Then again, Saul's not really a fair guy.]

So which one of those three are you? Or — let me guess — it's a mix of all three, right?

Ha. Only two outta three.

_{( But which two. That's the question.

And then, curiously: )}

So, who's the one? Your client.

Edited 2013-04-28 19:54 (UTC)

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