trainingwings | [Video]

[the camera, at first, is only focused on a wall. In the background, off screen, there are the sounds of fabric rustling as Booth struggles with his suit jacket...followed by a mild curse as he gives up and slings it over a chair. He hasn't brought himself to cut holes in it, yet, but it just isn't comfortable without them.

Frustrated, he drops down on the couch, lounging irritably...and notices the open journal.

In his irritation, he doesn't bother to close it, instead taking the opportunity to complain.]

Okay...cute as someone probably thinks this is, I've had just about enough of wing-world. Talking animals? A bunch of kids running around with super powers? I've had hallucinations that made more sense than this place. [huh...come to think of it, that sounds worse out loud than it did in his head. Moving on]

And how're you supposed to do anything with these wings getting in the way all the time? I haven't had a good night's rest in a month.

Has anyone put in a firing range around here? Because I could really go for shooting something, right about now.

Player Name: Kyra
Are You New?: N
Character Name: Seeley Booth
Character Fandom: Bones

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ special...agent?

huff. he doesn't know what that meaaans. are you higher up on the totem pole than him? he'll have to...figure it out. somehow. ]

Major Richard Sharpe. Bring your finest gun.

[he doesn't have long to wait. Booth pauses before actually closing the journal] Major, huh? Nice to meet you, sir. I was a Master Sergeant. And a ranger.

[it's not necessary. He'd left the army behind, and the man's accent and dress give Booth a pretty good idea that they weren't from the same military. But it's a matter of respect. He offers a salute.]

[ left behind or not, there's a certain comfort in another army man.

sharpe nods: ] Quite the collection of ranks, Booth.

[quite a bit of comfort, actually. He'd met a few of the navy men, but this was different. In a world where that seemed to describe everything, having something familiar was a nice change]

Just doing my job. [it's not forced modesty. He's proud of his service, but he's just one part of the whole.]

Not to be overeager, but I won't be long. I've been looking for a way to blow off steam for awhile.

Aye. I'll be there. [ sharpe moves to grab his rifle; his jacket. ] Soon enough.

[ though he might be a minute or two behind the other shooter -- toting his baker rifle on one shoulder and soon about to experience some serious gun-envy, no doubt. even modern handguns have a lot to school the old baker rifle in. ]

[Booth leaves his jacket behind, though he's still in his dress shirt and black pants. His uniform, now. It wasn't necessary here, but--like the shooting range or finding someone else from the army--the familiar helped keep everything else a bit more balanced. And, peeking up above his dress shoes, a pair of blue and yellow striped socks were occasionally visible.

He hasn't started firing without the other officer. Instead, he's checking the cartridge and viewing the makeshift targets, mentally preparing for the shots he'll take later.

He looks up when the other man approaches, nodding in acknowledgement as he lowers his weapon to his side]

[ the major sizes the agent up from a distance -- shading his eyes from the sun for a moment. he's seen outfits like this around the village before. suits, right? that's what they were called.

and the socks were damn fine. ]

Hallo. [ a nod in return. his own uniform was left open at the top -- the stock abandoned. but the buttons were...sorta polished. ]

Sir. [it's more friendly than formal, accompanied by a grin. He takes in the officer as well, but there's no real opinion on the state of his uniform. As far as regulation went, Booth was known for pushing a few of the boundaries. He certainly didn't mind others doing the same.

His eyes quickly leave the uniform, though, falling appreciatively on the rifle] Oh man...she's a beauty.

[replacing his Glock in its holster, he steps forward...a respectful distance, but trying to get a better look]

Certainly is. [ he eyes that holstered glock -- a pistol? hmm..

but then he realizes that booth is reciprocating some of that eying. and so he draws back the baker's hammer to half-cock. with a satisfying thunk. ]

Deadly accurate, too.

[if there's one thing Booth knows, it's firearms. He knows the old line of that rifle, and he can guess that what counts as deadly accurate for the Major isn't anything like Booth's standard. But he doesn't contradict him, and his appreciation doesn't dim. This is a piece of history that he doesn't need Bones to find value in]

From home, or did you have to get a new one here?

[it was less of an issue with his handgun. It didn't bother him to find a new standard issue. But his sniper rifle...that had been another matter.

It wasn't that he could see a use for it. And he didn't want to have to use it. But if it came down to it, he wanted a weapon he was familiar with]

Home, Booth. [ he still says the man's name with a certain measure of wariness. ] Took'er long enough to show up.

[ he nods at the holster. ] One of them future pieces...?

[Video]

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