fandomtownies | Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Monday

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Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Monday

Cable had a laptop set up on his desk after he came downstairs this morning. A couple of commands in and he'd flipped the lid almost the entire way back down, leaving whatever he'd started to run on its own strength.

Occasionally, he checked. The rest of the time, it was paperwork again.

[ open ]

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He's working. He also has a few unlit candles placed under the desk.

He's also hoping no one with a ponytail is going to show up.

Someone with a ponytail showed up. And bowed politely. "Good afternoon, Mr. Cable, sir."

Cable took one look at him and sighed. Then crossed his arms. "You're not getting a gun."

If even Deadpool vouched against you...

"But.. but..." Sokka sputtered. "You said that if I showed you I could use one safely and responsibly, I could..."

"Which you can't." What was it Wade had said, again? 'That kid is un poco loco'. Right. "I'm told."

"Says who?" Sokka demanded.

Then he composed himself and bowed again. "Okay, yeah, sometimes I can get a little overexcited," he admitted, "but that's not the same thing as irresponsible. Please, if you'll allow me to show you in the shooting range...?"

"Overexcited."

This was Cable's skeptical thinking face.

"Hey, guns don't exist in my world," Sokka protested. "Despite all the practice I've had with them, the novelty hasn't worn off."

"But I AM a warrior," he insisted, "and I know the proper respect to give a weapon." He drew his boomerang from its sheath. Despite the months of near-disuse, he'd kept it well-oiled, polished, and sharpened. "This is my weapon of choice," he said, "and I'm a master with it."

Cable rubbed his forehead for a moment. Still thinking.

"Fine," he said, finally. He got up from behind his desk, brushing past Sokka to pick up the gun he'd been ogling a few weeks previous before heading into the shooting range (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomtownies/2318367.html?thread=104886047#t104886047). "This is your shot. And put that away."

Not without Cable's okay, and the security system will take care of anyone trying for shenanigans.

Cable slammed the 9mm ammo into place, then offered the weapon to Sokka.

"Aim anywhere that's not a target and it's over," he informed the boy with no small amount of gruff authority.

Sokka checked to make sure the safety was on, nodded at Cable, then flipped the safety off and took aim.

Whereas normally he'd be grinning wildly and emptying the clip as fast as he could, he kept himself calm and collected this time. He fired off a steady stream of bullets -- not too fast, not too slow -- until the clip was empty, then put the safety on, ejected the clip, and handed gun and clip back to Cable. Only two of the bullets had hit the bullseye, but most of the rest were clustered around it.

If, say, Irene or Wade or Dom had been around, they would have probably referred to Cable's expression as being 'Finding No Fault But Very Skeptic #12', but since none of them were, it seemed to be mostly... his usual expression.

"Wade calls you 'un poco loco'," he said. You could really hear the apostrophes. "Why?"

"Calls me what?" Sokka asked. "Is that another language?"

"I frequently wonder myself," Cable replied vaguely, checking the gun for a moment. He didn't look at Sokka at all as he said it. "It means he considers you unreliable."

"Ohhhhh," Sokka replied. "That's just because I attacked him when he made fun of my hair."

And that would be what got Sokka a dry, stoic look of truly epic proportions.

"Well, OBVIOUSLY I didn't realize how stupid an idea it was at the time!" Sokka protested.

"Obviously."

Cable moved towards the door. With the gun.

"HEY! Wait!" Sokka called. "What? What'd I say? Aw, COME ON!"

Mod your progression of the human spirit.

*fwumph*

I hate Mondays.

Almost time for Sinterklaas.

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Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Monday

Talk to Cable

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Shooting Range

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Meditation Room

OOC