Irvine and Dana, backdated to Dec. 20
Dec. 20th, 2013 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainIrvine didn't think cute, small, red-headed freshmen would be interested in target practice, but Dana is full of pleasant surprises. She doesn't even seem to mind Irvine's generous showing-off.
Rooting around in the recycling bin was pretty noisy, but Irvine didn't notice. He'd come up with a few good, solid tin cans now rattling in a plastic bag, that he didn't reckon anybody was going to miss. With his warm camel-leather duster on and his BB rifle slung over his shoulder, he was ready to tramp outside to the edge of school property and indulge in his second favorite pastime.
Of course, he wasn't carrying around a loaded gun or anything dangerous. Everything he needed to spend a couple of hours alone with his best girl was all packed up in a backpack, including a generous Thermos of hot coffee.
He made plenty of noise. It had been the rattling that had caught her attention at first, and Dana closed her book on quantum mechanics to try and find the source. And the source was...well, he cute. That was the second thing she noticed (after the noise).
The third thing was the BB gun. "Going shooting?"
Maybe he'd halfway deafened himself with the recycling bin. It was the only reason Irvine could think of for missing a cute girl wandering up nearby. He was already grinning before his brain made its way past strawberry hair and adorable freckles, and worked out the fact that she was probably a freshman -- if that. Danger, Trickshot, danger!
"Was thinkin' about it," Irvine agreed in a relaxed Western drawl. He lifted the bag of cans to indicate it. "Don't wanna make the wildlife nervous so I'm bringin' my own targets."
She smiled back automatically - he had a great smile - even as she warned him, "Be careful. Last time I was out here shooting, one of the other students seemed kind of upset by it."
Irvine's brows went up in surprise. "Aw, shit. Really? I don't wanna freak anybody out." He'd known a few girls on the competitive shooting circuit, but not a whole lot. This just wasn't an opportunity he wanted to pass up. "You wanna come out, help me figure out how far out we gotta go so we don't scare anybody?"
You never got better if you never practiced. Besides, he seemed like a nice enough guy. "Sure. Should I go get my gun?"
It suddenly seemed really stupid to ask if she had her own, and Irvine had to visibly stop himself from asking that. In the next moment, he broke out into a broad grin. How was it possible that he hadn't met this girl yet? "Hell yeah, you should. Meetcha out front. I'll be the one in the cowboy hat," he added, and used the end of his rifle to flip said hat up from the kitchen counter to settle on his head.
Dana couldn't help but smile back, showing dimples - Irvine's grin was contagious. "Deal. See you in a couple."
Aw hell, Irvine was kind of glad she was younger than him, now. Them dimples could get a guy in trouble. He managed not to whistle at his own doom, and gathered up his stuff. A few minutes later, Irvine was waiting just outside the front doors, idly flipping and twirling the BB rifle in one half-gloved hand -- in short, showing off, just because he could.
She got down there, BB gun in tow, in short order. Dana would never admit this kind of thing, but she was pretty excited. He seemed pretty nice (and, yeah, okay, cute and whatever), and he liked going shooting. Why wouldn't she be excited about it?
"Didn't realize you were a twirler, too," she commented, sounding amused, as she got closer.
Irvine caught the rifle mid-twist, appearing not at all concerned about being caught. You had to own that kind of thing, he believed! "Just shootin' straight got a little boring when I worked out how I never miss. Gotta mix it up sometimes," he explained good-naturedly. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I was gonna head out that way, away from the lake. Ya think?"
Dana glanced in the direction he'd indicated. "Probably a good idea. Get some distance between us and the others."
With a nod, Irvine started to tramp off that way, slinging the rifle over his shoulder again. "Hey, I'm Irvine, by the way. I don't think we got any classes together?"
"I don't think we do," she agreed. Because Dana was pretty sure she'd have remembered seeing him in class - by which she meant, positive. "I'm Dana Scully. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Irvine answered, and he did really sound pleased. "I don't think I've met anybody else here who's got their own gun. You been shootin' long?"
"I have two brothers and my dad's Navy. I think I got a gun before I got a dress," she joked. "You?"
Irvine didn't miss a beat before answering, "Definitely got my first gun before my first dress. Whod've thought?" he glanced sidelong at Dana with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Started around eleven or so, I reckon. Took right to it. Guess my head knew I was gonna need it before long. Imagine if I'd taken up crochet? Pretty useless mutant at that point."
Even Dana couldn't quite keep from laughing a little at the idea of Mr. Cowboy in a frilly dress. Once she'd managed to suppress the giggles, though, she asked, " so your mutation is based around aim, right?"
"Right," Irvine drawled back. Making a cute girl laugh was well worth whatever vision she had in her head of him at the moment. "I never miss if I'm shootin' something. Seems to work the same with arrows or slingshots, that kind 'f thing, but guns feel more natural to me. For the sake of my basketball game, I wish it worked without a weapon, too, but it don't," he added with a chuckle.
"So you need the weapon," Dana repeated, sounding intrigued. That was an interesting mutation - one that depended on external aids to work at all, and how did it know what a weapon even was? After all, a basketball could be a weapon, in the right hands. "That's a little quirky. Shame about the basketball game, though. I think we could put together a pretty unbeatable team for it, with the people here."
Irvine gave a soft snort of agreement. "Hell yeah. That kid who can make copies of himself? You practically don't even need a whole team. But who'd play against us?"
They were reaching the edge of the trees surrounding the school, and Irvine skirted around them. Some of the more isolated kids tended to take to the woods for privacy, he'd noticed, and disturbing them seemed like a bad idea if they were out that day. There was a stretch of old fence he was making toward, where they could set up their recycled targets and still keep the actual firing away from the main house. "Think that'll be okay down there?"
Dana stood up straight - as tall as her 4'10" frame would let her - and looked around. She was focused, attentive, listening for the sound of anywhere near by, and looking for signs that the area was frequented by people. There were none, though, so she gave him a nod. "I think so."
"Aw'right." Irvine headed that way, though he did his best to keep his long, lanky strides from outpacing his much smaller shooting partner. Once they reached the fence, he started unloading the tin cans from the sack he'd brought, lining them up along the top. "So is it okay for you to tell me who got nervous 'round gunfire? I don't wanna spook anybody if I can help it."
"I don't know that she was nervous around my gun, specifically," Dana said, shrugging slightly. She straightened one of the cans on the rails. "But Noriko pointed out that the sudden sound of gunfire might make people nervous here. In general."
Huh. Made sense. Irvine glanced back toward the mansion-school thoughtfully, but judged they were probably far enough away they wouldn't disturb anyone. Much. He hoped. "We'll play it real safe then. Aw'right, let's hike up a ways and you can show me what ya got," Irvine offered once their targets were settled.
The day was chilly, but the sun was out and the breeze was mild at best. Perfect day for shooting. With a grin, Irvine made a come-along gesture and paced off away from the fence to drop his stuff at a comfortable distance.
She wasn't much for trotting along after anyone, but he seemed so nice and his smile was so friendly that Dana was having trouble getting up any real annoyance over it. Instead, she just followed until they reached what the older teen apparently felt was an acceptable distance.
"You know," she mused as she loaded her BB gun, "there is something undoubtedly foolish about trying to impress someone whose mutation is marksmanship."
Irvine clearly had a steady ritual with his ammunition and gun, going through the motions with the ease of long habit. "I had plenty of practice before this thing showed up, but it's like... it's just easy for me. You know what you're doin'. I'm gonna bet you're a sight better at this than I am at... that... thing you do." Irvine trailed off, realizing he actually had no idea what Dana's power was about.
Dana smirked slightly. "Probably. I summon the dead, and that's not something I imagine you get much practice with. Or something anyone gets much practice with."
"Holy shit," said Irvine, sincerely, lowering his rifle to point at the ground since he was probably going to stare bug-eyed at Dana for a few seconds at least. Safety first. "You, uh, don't really seem the zombie-queen type, if you don't mind my sayin'."
At that, she gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks. And no, I'm not. So don't worry."
Irvine didn't know what he'd said to make her smile like that, but he sure was glad he did. He gave her a somewhat bewildered half-smile back. "Man. That... sounds like a rough draw," he said with a small shake of the head, and stepped back to get his rifle back up and pointed in the right direction. "For that, you can shoot first. You probably earned it."
Dana carefully shouldered her rifle, aiming at the sacrificial cans lined up on the fence. She was careful not to laser anything else - no need to ignore safety or to endanger property. She picked a soup can, and focused her sights on it. Another moment, as she pulled on the trigger.....and with a loud crack, the soup can fell to the ground.
"Real nice!" Irvine encouraged, pleased to see that Dana really did know what she was doing. Most of the kids on his squad had never even held a gun before, so it was nice to hang out with someone comfortable with one of Irvine's favorite things in the world.
He hoped she didn't mind too much if he showed off a bit, shouldering his own rifle and choosing a can at the end of the line. It was impossible to suppress a crooked grin, because all he had to do was focus. His trigger finger tightened, but didn't pull completely -- and a second later, the can he'd sighted burst into short-lived flames.
Dana was surprised by the show, but managed not to show it outwardly. "Fire?" She asked nonchalantly.
"Ice, too," Irvine confirmed, lowering the rifle. "Lensherr calls 'em psychic bullets. Freaked me right the hell out when it happened the first time, lemme tell ya."
"Psychic bullets? So are they physical projectiles, or only psionic force?" She asked curiously.
"Uh," said Irvine, and shrugged. "I don't think they got a physical form, but they do fly. It ain't instant, and I can't do it without the gun in hand."
It really was fascinating, that his entire mutation required use of some kind of external aid. She wondered what Lydia and Dr. McTaggart made of it. "Wow."
Irvine shrugged, but not dismissively. The ability was just a part of him, and though it was pretty damn cool, it wasn't like he'd trained himself to do it. Controlling it was the thing that took practice and concentration. "It's just what I do. I'd like to figure out how it works, but I get C's in science, I don't reckon that's my department. Yer up, Dimples," he added, tilting his head toward the target line.
Dimples? Just for that, Dana made sure her shot was lined up perfectly. When she fired, the can was nearly severed in half. "Science is what I do, though. With Dr. McTaggert and Lydia. Maybe we could help."
Irvine didn't think Dana could see his momentarily doubtful expression. Lydia Martin wasn't likely to look twice at him if he wasn't some kind of medical or scientific miracle -- which they all were, really. He didn't exactly stand out. "I reckon they got more interesting folks to study around here. Nice shot."
Her look was so skeptical it was nearly comical. "You make fire and ice bullets with your mind. That's pretty damn interesting, I'd say. But," and at this, her expression softened slightly, "thanks. You're up."
Irvine did, indeed, have to bite back a chuckle at the incredibly adult expression on the young girl's face, directed one-hundred-percent at him. "Okay," he surrendered, good-naturedly. "You wanna get me on the slab, you just let me know when to show up. I'll be yer guinea pig." How was he supposed to say no to three redheads at once?
The bright smile was back. "Thanks! I'll ask Lydia."
Between that sunny smile of Dana's and the promise of Lydia Martin taking an interest in his genetics, Irvine was pretty sure he was totally doomed. He took to it cheerfully enough, shouldering his rifle once more with a rueful smile. Just what had he gotten himself into?
Rooting around in the recycling bin was pretty noisy, but Irvine didn't notice. He'd come up with a few good, solid tin cans now rattling in a plastic bag, that he didn't reckon anybody was going to miss. With his warm camel-leather duster on and his BB rifle slung over his shoulder, he was ready to tramp outside to the edge of school property and indulge in his second favorite pastime.
Of course, he wasn't carrying around a loaded gun or anything dangerous. Everything he needed to spend a couple of hours alone with his best girl was all packed up in a backpack, including a generous Thermos of hot coffee.
He made plenty of noise. It had been the rattling that had caught her attention at first, and Dana closed her book on quantum mechanics to try and find the source. And the source was...well, he cute. That was the second thing she noticed (after the noise).
The third thing was the BB gun. "Going shooting?"
Maybe he'd halfway deafened himself with the recycling bin. It was the only reason Irvine could think of for missing a cute girl wandering up nearby. He was already grinning before his brain made its way past strawberry hair and adorable freckles, and worked out the fact that she was probably a freshman -- if that. Danger, Trickshot, danger!
"Was thinkin' about it," Irvine agreed in a relaxed Western drawl. He lifted the bag of cans to indicate it. "Don't wanna make the wildlife nervous so I'm bringin' my own targets."
She smiled back automatically - he had a great smile - even as she warned him, "Be careful. Last time I was out here shooting, one of the other students seemed kind of upset by it."
Irvine's brows went up in surprise. "Aw, shit. Really? I don't wanna freak anybody out." He'd known a few girls on the competitive shooting circuit, but not a whole lot. This just wasn't an opportunity he wanted to pass up. "You wanna come out, help me figure out how far out we gotta go so we don't scare anybody?"
You never got better if you never practiced. Besides, he seemed like a nice enough guy. "Sure. Should I go get my gun?"
It suddenly seemed really stupid to ask if she had her own, and Irvine had to visibly stop himself from asking that. In the next moment, he broke out into a broad grin. How was it possible that he hadn't met this girl yet? "Hell yeah, you should. Meetcha out front. I'll be the one in the cowboy hat," he added, and used the end of his rifle to flip said hat up from the kitchen counter to settle on his head.
Dana couldn't help but smile back, showing dimples - Irvine's grin was contagious. "Deal. See you in a couple."
Aw hell, Irvine was kind of glad she was younger than him, now. Them dimples could get a guy in trouble. He managed not to whistle at his own doom, and gathered up his stuff. A few minutes later, Irvine was waiting just outside the front doors, idly flipping and twirling the BB rifle in one half-gloved hand -- in short, showing off, just because he could.
She got down there, BB gun in tow, in short order. Dana would never admit this kind of thing, but she was pretty excited. He seemed pretty nice (and, yeah, okay, cute and whatever), and he liked going shooting. Why wouldn't she be excited about it?
"Didn't realize you were a twirler, too," she commented, sounding amused, as she got closer.
Irvine caught the rifle mid-twist, appearing not at all concerned about being caught. You had to own that kind of thing, he believed! "Just shootin' straight got a little boring when I worked out how I never miss. Gotta mix it up sometimes," he explained good-naturedly. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I was gonna head out that way, away from the lake. Ya think?"
Dana glanced in the direction he'd indicated. "Probably a good idea. Get some distance between us and the others."
With a nod, Irvine started to tramp off that way, slinging the rifle over his shoulder again. "Hey, I'm Irvine, by the way. I don't think we got any classes together?"
"I don't think we do," she agreed. Because Dana was pretty sure she'd have remembered seeing him in class - by which she meant, positive. "I'm Dana Scully. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Irvine answered, and he did really sound pleased. "I don't think I've met anybody else here who's got their own gun. You been shootin' long?"
"I have two brothers and my dad's Navy. I think I got a gun before I got a dress," she joked. "You?"
Irvine didn't miss a beat before answering, "Definitely got my first gun before my first dress. Whod've thought?" he glanced sidelong at Dana with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Started around eleven or so, I reckon. Took right to it. Guess my head knew I was gonna need it before long. Imagine if I'd taken up crochet? Pretty useless mutant at that point."
Even Dana couldn't quite keep from laughing a little at the idea of Mr. Cowboy in a frilly dress. Once she'd managed to suppress the giggles, though, she asked, " so your mutation is based around aim, right?"
"Right," Irvine drawled back. Making a cute girl laugh was well worth whatever vision she had in her head of him at the moment. "I never miss if I'm shootin' something. Seems to work the same with arrows or slingshots, that kind 'f thing, but guns feel more natural to me. For the sake of my basketball game, I wish it worked without a weapon, too, but it don't," he added with a chuckle.
"So you need the weapon," Dana repeated, sounding intrigued. That was an interesting mutation - one that depended on external aids to work at all, and how did it know what a weapon even was? After all, a basketball could be a weapon, in the right hands. "That's a little quirky. Shame about the basketball game, though. I think we could put together a pretty unbeatable team for it, with the people here."
Irvine gave a soft snort of agreement. "Hell yeah. That kid who can make copies of himself? You practically don't even need a whole team. But who'd play against us?"
They were reaching the edge of the trees surrounding the school, and Irvine skirted around them. Some of the more isolated kids tended to take to the woods for privacy, he'd noticed, and disturbing them seemed like a bad idea if they were out that day. There was a stretch of old fence he was making toward, where they could set up their recycled targets and still keep the actual firing away from the main house. "Think that'll be okay down there?"
Dana stood up straight - as tall as her 4'10" frame would let her - and looked around. She was focused, attentive, listening for the sound of anywhere near by, and looking for signs that the area was frequented by people. There were none, though, so she gave him a nod. "I think so."
"Aw'right." Irvine headed that way, though he did his best to keep his long, lanky strides from outpacing his much smaller shooting partner. Once they reached the fence, he started unloading the tin cans from the sack he'd brought, lining them up along the top. "So is it okay for you to tell me who got nervous 'round gunfire? I don't wanna spook anybody if I can help it."
"I don't know that she was nervous around my gun, specifically," Dana said, shrugging slightly. She straightened one of the cans on the rails. "But Noriko pointed out that the sudden sound of gunfire might make people nervous here. In general."
Huh. Made sense. Irvine glanced back toward the mansion-school thoughtfully, but judged they were probably far enough away they wouldn't disturb anyone. Much. He hoped. "We'll play it real safe then. Aw'right, let's hike up a ways and you can show me what ya got," Irvine offered once their targets were settled.
The day was chilly, but the sun was out and the breeze was mild at best. Perfect day for shooting. With a grin, Irvine made a come-along gesture and paced off away from the fence to drop his stuff at a comfortable distance.
She wasn't much for trotting along after anyone, but he seemed so nice and his smile was so friendly that Dana was having trouble getting up any real annoyance over it. Instead, she just followed until they reached what the older teen apparently felt was an acceptable distance.
"You know," she mused as she loaded her BB gun, "there is something undoubtedly foolish about trying to impress someone whose mutation is marksmanship."
Irvine clearly had a steady ritual with his ammunition and gun, going through the motions with the ease of long habit. "I had plenty of practice before this thing showed up, but it's like... it's just easy for me. You know what you're doin'. I'm gonna bet you're a sight better at this than I am at... that... thing you do." Irvine trailed off, realizing he actually had no idea what Dana's power was about.
Dana smirked slightly. "Probably. I summon the dead, and that's not something I imagine you get much practice with. Or something anyone gets much practice with."
"Holy shit," said Irvine, sincerely, lowering his rifle to point at the ground since he was probably going to stare bug-eyed at Dana for a few seconds at least. Safety first. "You, uh, don't really seem the zombie-queen type, if you don't mind my sayin'."
At that, she gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks. And no, I'm not. So don't worry."
Irvine didn't know what he'd said to make her smile like that, but he sure was glad he did. He gave her a somewhat bewildered half-smile back. "Man. That... sounds like a rough draw," he said with a small shake of the head, and stepped back to get his rifle back up and pointed in the right direction. "For that, you can shoot first. You probably earned it."
Dana carefully shouldered her rifle, aiming at the sacrificial cans lined up on the fence. She was careful not to laser anything else - no need to ignore safety or to endanger property. She picked a soup can, and focused her sights on it. Another moment, as she pulled on the trigger.....and with a loud crack, the soup can fell to the ground.
"Real nice!" Irvine encouraged, pleased to see that Dana really did know what she was doing. Most of the kids on his squad had never even held a gun before, so it was nice to hang out with someone comfortable with one of Irvine's favorite things in the world.
He hoped she didn't mind too much if he showed off a bit, shouldering his own rifle and choosing a can at the end of the line. It was impossible to suppress a crooked grin, because all he had to do was focus. His trigger finger tightened, but didn't pull completely -- and a second later, the can he'd sighted burst into short-lived flames.
Dana was surprised by the show, but managed not to show it outwardly. "Fire?" She asked nonchalantly.
"Ice, too," Irvine confirmed, lowering the rifle. "Lensherr calls 'em psychic bullets. Freaked me right the hell out when it happened the first time, lemme tell ya."
"Psychic bullets? So are they physical projectiles, or only psionic force?" She asked curiously.
"Uh," said Irvine, and shrugged. "I don't think they got a physical form, but they do fly. It ain't instant, and I can't do it without the gun in hand."
It really was fascinating, that his entire mutation required use of some kind of external aid. She wondered what Lydia and Dr. McTaggart made of it. "Wow."
Irvine shrugged, but not dismissively. The ability was just a part of him, and though it was pretty damn cool, it wasn't like he'd trained himself to do it. Controlling it was the thing that took practice and concentration. "It's just what I do. I'd like to figure out how it works, but I get C's in science, I don't reckon that's my department. Yer up, Dimples," he added, tilting his head toward the target line.
Dimples? Just for that, Dana made sure her shot was lined up perfectly. When she fired, the can was nearly severed in half. "Science is what I do, though. With Dr. McTaggert and Lydia. Maybe we could help."
Irvine didn't think Dana could see his momentarily doubtful expression. Lydia Martin wasn't likely to look twice at him if he wasn't some kind of medical or scientific miracle -- which they all were, really. He didn't exactly stand out. "I reckon they got more interesting folks to study around here. Nice shot."
Her look was so skeptical it was nearly comical. "You make fire and ice bullets with your mind. That's pretty damn interesting, I'd say. But," and at this, her expression softened slightly, "thanks. You're up."
Irvine did, indeed, have to bite back a chuckle at the incredibly adult expression on the young girl's face, directed one-hundred-percent at him. "Okay," he surrendered, good-naturedly. "You wanna get me on the slab, you just let me know when to show up. I'll be yer guinea pig." How was he supposed to say no to three redheads at once?
The bright smile was back. "Thanks! I'll ask Lydia."
Between that sunny smile of Dana's and the promise of Lydia Martin taking an interest in his genetics, Irvine was pretty sure he was totally doomed. He took to it cheerfully enough, shouldering his rifle once more with a rueful smile. Just what had he gotten himself into?
