Bigby and Scott, backdated to 5/7/2015
May. 7th, 2015 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_grimm posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainScott meets Bigby while target practicing on the school grounds.
Scott used the Danger Room as often as he could, but even he couldn't monopolize it. Security staff or not, senior team member or not, it was communal property. So he sometimes moved his targeting practice outside.
He'd modified a skeet shooting set-up, so that it was more varied, out on the edge of the grounds. It was a safe distance from the school and remote enough not to draw attention from anyone up on the road. It was perfect, but it would certainly do.
He finished loading up the machines, and then got up, to walk to the first position and get ready for the clay discs to be hurled into the air.
Backpack for his clothes in hand, Bigby left the school building and crossed the grounds. He’d been itching to stretch his legs all morning, and he was looking forward to finally get to do it. Maybe he’d park his furry butt outside John’s window and howl at him until he came out to play. The thought made him grin, and the decision was made, but as he got closer to his usual shift spot, he saw that someone was already there.
Slowing, Bigby nodded to him, “Hey.”
Scott took his hand off the visor's trigger, and turned to face the interloper. "Hi. Bigby, right?" Not that he didn't know, but seeming like you knew people you'd never really talked to was just creepy.
Bigby nodded a confirmation, and offered out a hand, “Yeah. And you’re Scott, right? Nice to meet you.” He’d heard of him--he tried to make a point of knowing everyone at the school--but this was the first time they’d officially met.”
Scott reached out and shook the other man's hand. "Nice to meet you."
“What are you up to out here?” Bigby glanced at what looked like a skeet shooting set-up.
"Practicing," he explained. "I switch locations so that I'm not always hogging the DR, you know? Am I in the way of anything out here?"
Bigby shook his head, “Not that I know of. It’s usually empty when I come out for a run anyway. Am I in the way?”
"Not as long as you stay behind me," Scott said. Somehow he doubted Bigby wanted some new holes in his body.
“So, I shouldn’t stand in front of the thing that shoots clay discs?” Bigby asked dryly, a glint of humor in his eyes.
Scott smirked. "Depends. How many holes do you want put in you, and how lucky do you feel?" He asked in kind.
“Generally lucky when it comes to holes, thanks to the healing factor,” Bigby answered, a smirk putting a hint of a slant to his mouth. “But, I’m not really into testing it out recreationally.”
"Yeah, probably not a good habit to get into," Scott agreed. "Unless you have some burning need to be more aerodynamic or something."
The corner of Bigby’s mouth tugged up. “Or to make a whistling sound when the wind blows.”
Scott snorted softly, though it was clearly amused rather than annoyed. "I think you'd lose the element of surprise, if that was the outcome. Wearing a siren or a bell might be easier and less painful."
“Might,” Bigby agreed. His gaze shifted over onto the skeet set-up. “So, target practice, huh?”
"Yeah. It's not a perfect set-up, because I can't make it truly random, but it's something," Scott said, nodding.
Bigby nodded a little, and looked to the skeet set-up again. “I could fire it for you.”
Scott hadn't been expecting the offer of help, and he looked momentarily surprised. He recovered rapidly, though. "That would be great. If you don't mind, I mean."
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Bigby replied, then continued, “Come on. Show me how to use this thing.”
Scott used the Danger Room as often as he could, but even he couldn't monopolize it. Security staff or not, senior team member or not, it was communal property. So he sometimes moved his targeting practice outside.
He'd modified a skeet shooting set-up, so that it was more varied, out on the edge of the grounds. It was a safe distance from the school and remote enough not to draw attention from anyone up on the road. It was perfect, but it would certainly do.
He finished loading up the machines, and then got up, to walk to the first position and get ready for the clay discs to be hurled into the air.
Backpack for his clothes in hand, Bigby left the school building and crossed the grounds. He’d been itching to stretch his legs all morning, and he was looking forward to finally get to do it. Maybe he’d park his furry butt outside John’s window and howl at him until he came out to play. The thought made him grin, and the decision was made, but as he got closer to his usual shift spot, he saw that someone was already there.
Slowing, Bigby nodded to him, “Hey.”
Scott took his hand off the visor's trigger, and turned to face the interloper. "Hi. Bigby, right?" Not that he didn't know, but seeming like you knew people you'd never really talked to was just creepy.
Bigby nodded a confirmation, and offered out a hand, “Yeah. And you’re Scott, right? Nice to meet you.” He’d heard of him--he tried to make a point of knowing everyone at the school--but this was the first time they’d officially met.”
Scott reached out and shook the other man's hand. "Nice to meet you."
“What are you up to out here?” Bigby glanced at what looked like a skeet shooting set-up.
"Practicing," he explained. "I switch locations so that I'm not always hogging the DR, you know? Am I in the way of anything out here?"
Bigby shook his head, “Not that I know of. It’s usually empty when I come out for a run anyway. Am I in the way?”
"Not as long as you stay behind me," Scott said. Somehow he doubted Bigby wanted some new holes in his body.
“So, I shouldn’t stand in front of the thing that shoots clay discs?” Bigby asked dryly, a glint of humor in his eyes.
Scott smirked. "Depends. How many holes do you want put in you, and how lucky do you feel?" He asked in kind.
“Generally lucky when it comes to holes, thanks to the healing factor,” Bigby answered, a smirk putting a hint of a slant to his mouth. “But, I’m not really into testing it out recreationally.”
"Yeah, probably not a good habit to get into," Scott agreed. "Unless you have some burning need to be more aerodynamic or something."
The corner of Bigby’s mouth tugged up. “Or to make a whistling sound when the wind blows.”
Scott snorted softly, though it was clearly amused rather than annoyed. "I think you'd lose the element of surprise, if that was the outcome. Wearing a siren or a bell might be easier and less painful."
“Might,” Bigby agreed. His gaze shifted over onto the skeet set-up. “So, target practice, huh?”
"Yeah. It's not a perfect set-up, because I can't make it truly random, but it's something," Scott said, nodding.
Bigby nodded a little, and looked to the skeet set-up again. “I could fire it for you.”
Scott hadn't been expecting the offer of help, and he looked momentarily surprised. He recovered rapidly, though. "That would be great. If you don't mind, I mean."
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Bigby replied, then continued, “Come on. Show me how to use this thing.”
