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invoking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2013-03-14 04:40 am
invoking) wrote in capeandcowllogs2013-03-14 04:40 am
Entry tags:
“There's a fire starting here—”
WHO: monica & gil.
WHERE: wherever monica is busting in on.
WHEN: let's go with midnight 3/15.
WARNINGS: violence and language. probably blood.
SUMMARY: wrong place, wrong time. maybe.
FORMAT: quick.
[ It had been months since Gil flexed his marksman abilities, so today after calling the only available shooting range he could find in the City, he went to this Westside Rifle & Pistol Range to take a look himself. They had tried to tell him to browse their webpage, but having no idea how to operate the Internet yet, Gil opted to inspect the place in person. No harm in that. It seemed... alright. It was the only place he could open fire on a target without risking charges.
On the way back, he had taken a taxi instead, not entirely familiar with the area the range was in. After some time when it had become clear the taxi driver was either new or taking a longer route to cheat money out of Gil, he had spoken up. The driver argued back and then Gil found himself growing frustrated and the driver did not take well to it. Upon realizing he was an imPort, Gil got kicked out of the cab ("You fuckin' imPorts think you can just talk however and do whatever you want! Piss off, ya alien!" the driver had yelled) and was left in another unfamiliar part of the city.
Lost and irritable (he barely has any change left), Gil now wanders down the street, debating giving Nelson or Kenzi a call to figure out where he is and where to find the subway. Just as he takes out his phone, he senses there's something-- someone-- else around and he stops, certain he's spotted a shadow moving somewhere past him. ]
WHERE: wherever monica is busting in on.
WHEN: let's go with midnight 3/15.
WARNINGS: violence and language. probably blood.
SUMMARY: wrong place, wrong time. maybe.
FORMAT: quick.
[ It had been months since Gil flexed his marksman abilities, so today after calling the only available shooting range he could find in the City, he went to this Westside Rifle & Pistol Range to take a look himself. They had tried to tell him to browse their webpage, but having no idea how to operate the Internet yet, Gil opted to inspect the place in person. No harm in that. It seemed... alright. It was the only place he could open fire on a target without risking charges.
On the way back, he had taken a taxi instead, not entirely familiar with the area the range was in. After some time when it had become clear the taxi driver was either new or taking a longer route to cheat money out of Gil, he had spoken up. The driver argued back and then Gil found himself growing frustrated and the driver did not take well to it. Upon realizing he was an imPort, Gil got kicked out of the cab ("You fuckin' imPorts think you can just talk however and do whatever you want! Piss off, ya alien!" the driver had yelled) and was left in another unfamiliar part of the city.
Lost and irritable (he barely has any change left), Gil now wanders down the street, debating giving Nelson or Kenzi a call to figure out where he is and where to find the subway. Just as he takes out his phone, he senses there's something-- someone-- else around and he stops, certain he's spotted a shadow moving somewhere past him. ]
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( She walks back to the couch, lifts the man up on to her back like a sack of flower. )
Good night, Mr. Nightray.
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